


give or take a few

by whatthekey (sardothien)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Office, M/M, Past Joonmyun/Kyungsoo, age gap, but all sexual activity is after younger character is legal (see notes for more info!), heavy flirting between adult and minor, sex with feelings, whiny needy bottom jongdae?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:26:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4310466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sardothien/pseuds/whatthekey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe this time, Joonmyun thinks, he deserves to get what he wants. (Just this once.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	give or take a few

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, i want to apologize. this was originally supposed to be the jundae porn epic of my dreams, but what you're getting instead is a lot of feelings and maybe like 30% porn. my bad. ^___^v   
>  secondly, i wanted to address the issue regarding the age of consent. this fic is set in korea, but in my poor foresight i wrote this while adhering to western ages of consent (18 international age). i realize now that the age of consent in korea is actually 19, so i apologize if this makes the fic confusing. i truly intended for everyone to be nice and legal before getting down to do the nasty—so please just bear with me and consider it a form of creative license?   
>  finally, a giant thank you to all the people who made this possible: elime, for giving me the idea ages ago; karen and marcel, for letting me talk your ears off in line chat and word sprinting with me until 3AM in the morning; yuki, for your endless plot advice; emily, for kicking my ass out of animeland and helping me iron out my plot tangles; ate reeza, for the extremely last minute beta (you're truly a savior!); and—last but not least—the exordium mods, for being ever so kind and exceedingly patient with me every step of the way. couldn't have done this without any of you!!!   
>  age gap has always been a weakness of mine. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

Of all the ways to make a good first impression, Joonmyun supposes that this is not one of them.  
****

It's when he first steps into the reception area, glass doors swinging shut behind him, and feels how remarkably empty the building is that he realizes he's made a mistake.

"Shit," Joonmyun mumbles, feeling his face grow hot. He had totally come in an hour earlier than he was supposed to. He didn't even know if he was technically allowed to be in here, but he looks around and decides to take a seat.

Maybe that being early is better than being late, but it's only the first day and he doesn't want to seem too eager.

He's startled by the sound of footsteps, and looks up in time to see a tall, not-nearly-awake looking man step into the lobby.

"Kim Joonmyun-ssi?" the man asks, looking surprised when Joonmyun nods feebly, gets up on his feet in a rush. "You're early!"

"I'm so sorry," Joonmyun exhales, "I must have mixed up the time. I can come back later if you want—"

The man smiles. "No need. I was just taking care of some calls. Most of the employees don't come in until nine, but I can show you around if you want."

Joonmyun bows. "Thanks so much for understanding, uh..."

"Kim Jonghwan," the man says with a lazy flourish of his hand. "Vice President of Human Resources. I believe I spoke with you over the phone?"

Jonghwan begins to make his way towards the back of the office, and Joonmyun scrambles to gather up his things to follow him. He remembers Jonghwan now as the man who had given him the phone interview. Joonmyun thought he'd done horribly, but Jonghwan had been very accommodating and encouraging. Joonmyun had been given an in-person interview last month, and here he is now, ready to begin with Suncorp.

Prior to being hired with Suncorp, Joonmyun had been punching numbers at a smaller company in Yeouido. The commute from his home in Sinsa had been an absolute nightmare—an hour and a half on Lines 2 and 4 in the mornings and an hour to get back home. Suncorp is much closer—close enough that Joonmyun can even drive to work. Since starting at his previous job a year and a half ago, he'd neglected his car that he had so painstakingly saved up to buy. It feels good to be driving again.

In addition, the pay was much better. At his old job, Joonmyun had been hilariously underpaid for the work that he did. With Suncorp, Joonmyun can expect to be making 80,000,000 to 1,000,000,000 won a year—including vacation days and benefits. In essence, this new position with Suncorp is perfect for him. Joonmyun just has to make sure that he didn't screw anything up.

"I'm really sorry," Joonmyun mumbles again, following him. "I didn't mean to put you through so much trouble."

Jonghwan smiles. "That's okay. It's very refreshing to have someone else in the office at this time of morning."

Just then, Jonghwan's phone goes off in his pocket, and he pulls it out, making a face.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "I'm afraid I'll have to take this. If you just head down that way—" Jonghwan gestures with his head. "Your office is the first door on the right. It's empty right now, so there should be plenty of space for your things. I'll be just a few minutes."

Joonmyun laughs nervously. "Please take your time. I'll show myself around."

Jonghwan gives him a thumbs up before taking the call. Still somewhat frazzled, Joonmyun makes his way down to where Jonghwan had pointed. The first door on the right is nothing remarkable—just a plain dark paneled door. Nevertheless, Joonmyun pushes it open, peering inside.

The office is not empty.

Instead, Joonmyun finds himself staring at a deskful of teenage boy. He's lounging in the chair, feet propped up on the desk, playing a game on his phone. For a second, the boy doesn't seem to notice that he's been walked in on, giving Joonmyun the opportunity  to stare at him for one bewildered moment: the gentle curls of brown hair falling past his eyebrows, the feline slant of his eyes, skinny ankles disappearing into worn red converse.

He notes with a swallow that the boy is in uniform, and that the boy's pants are much too tight. But before Joonmyun can even begin to register what he's doing there in his office, the boy looks up.

"Oh."

"O-oh?" Joonmyun echoes. "I'm sorry, but who—"

"You must be the new employee." The boy stands up from the chair only to sit right on the desk itself. And like this, it's even more obvious just how tight those pants are.

Joonmyun continues to stare blankly. "I don't understa—"

A firm hand on his shoulder cuts him off, and Joonmyun looks behind him to see his new boss wearing an exasperated smile. "Jongdae, I told you not to hang out in here. Please play your phone games in the break room."

The boy—Jongdae—shrugs before hopping off the desk and sauntering out of the room.

Joonmyun's boss chuckles. "I'm sorry. Jongdae is kind of nosy."

"Who—" Joonmyun tries asking again, but has trouble forming words when the only thing he can think about is the shape of Jongdae's thighs in his tight, tight pants.

"My son," Jonghwan says with a conspiratory smile, and Joonmyun's entire body goes numb. "He has his first and second periods off, so he usually comes here with me in the mornings."

"First period off?" Joonmyun blurts out.

Jonghwan laughs. "You know how it is with high school, free periods left and right. I don't know how they do it—I feel like I always had a full schedule."

"High school," Joonmyun echoes, feeling faint. "Yes—of course."

Jonghwan rests a hand on the small of Joonmyun's back, leading him out towards the hall. "You'll have to excuse Jongdae. He likes to get into trouble."

Joonmyun nods. "Yes sir."

He is so totally fucking screwed.

 

 

 

 

Joonmyun thinks that maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if that had been the last he saw of Kim Jongdae, his boss' very illegal, very good looking son.

But as it turns out, Joonmyun would have sooner become a Korean pop idol. Jongdae shows up to Suncorp at the same time Joonmyun does every morning for the rest of his first week.

Jonghwan was right. Jongdae is nosy—sticking his face past the door of Joonmyun's office when he's in conference calls, shimmying in with his bright red, dirty converse and plopping his butt onto one of the guest chairs.

Not that Joonmyun is staring at the butt of his boss' son. His boss' son with absurdly tight uniform pants, his boss' son who's playing noisy phone games in Joonmyun's office. Or getting up in Joonmyun's face.

"What are you doing?" Jongdae asks one morning when Joonmyun is trying (keyword is _trying_ ) to settle an account discrepancy with the company finances.

The look Joonmyun probably gives him is definitely way too alarmed for his own liking, but then  Jongdae is peering over at him from over the top of his phone with a shadow of interest over his face.

"I'm reconciling something for your dad," Joonmyun answers awkwardly. "There are funds that—"

"I don't really care about my dad's money fuckups," Jongdae interrupts, surprising Joonmyun with both the language and his comment. "I just wanted to know what you were doing."

Jongdae is lounging in a chair that's entirely not meant to be lounged in, sitting sideways with his legs draped over the arm. Joonmyun tries not to stare at his small, sneakered feet and scratches the back of his neck, unsure of how to proceed with the conversation.

It's been like this every day, with Jongdae making blase comments about his father's company or Joonmyun's choices of tie. He sounds so unfazed by the corporate world that Joonmyun begins to wonder why Jongdae chooses to come here at all.

It's only when Jongdae makes his way over to his desk, hovering dangerously close to his chair, that Joonmyun clears his throat.

"Um, Jongdae—"

"Joonmyun-ssi," Jonghwan's voice resounds through the hallway, and Joonmyun immediately straightens up in his chair. "Have you seen—"

Joonmyun's boss steps into his office, wearing a concerned expression.

"Hi dad," Jongdae says brightly, putting on an extravagantly fake smile. Joonmyun simultaneously wants to shake him and also ram his own head into his desk at how cute it is.

Jonghwan frowns. "Jongdae, I told you to not bother the employees while they work."

"I was just asking Joonmyun-ssi about what he does," Jongdae lies easily, and even Joonmyun is surprised at how genuinely interested Jongdae sounds. "He was telling me about how your net revenue went down by 2.5% this week and that he was trying to figure out what parts of the budget needed to be cut out."

Joonmyun has never seen a person's face change so quickly from disapproving to pleased.

"Is that so?" Jonghwan raises an eyebrow at Joonmyun, who shrugs back meekly. "You've never been interested in what I do, Jongdae."

Jongdae gives him a sly smirk. "I think Joonmyun-ssi just makes it easier to understand."

Joonmyun tries to not look too unconvincing when his boss turns to eye him.

"That's interesting to know," Jonghwan says. He turns to walk out of Joonmyun's office, and Jongdae's smirk grows wider. "Very, very interesting."

"You're such a good teacher, Joonmyun-ssi," Jongdae says covertly, and Joonmyun's face flushes with heat. "Maybe you should teach me more about the business."

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Joonmyun barely manages to croak out. Jongdae is standing so close to him that his thighs are practically on Joonmyun's lap. From where he is, Joonmyun has no trouble at all seeing that yes—Jongdae does have a really nice ass.

 _BOSS'. SON. HIGH SCHOOLER_ , Joonmyun's subconscious screams at him. The maelstrom of confusion only churns when Jongdae cocks his head at him.

"Why would I be in school when I could just be here with Joonmyun-ssi?"

Joonmyun opens his mouth to answer just as Jonghwan's voice floats through the open door. Jongdae gives him one last, lingering look before sauntering out. Joonmyun could have sworn he was swaying his hips.

He digs the heels of his palms into his eye sockets in frustration. Having Jongdae around is definitely not going to be good for his work productivity.

He manages to finish the financial report before, all too soon, Jongdae peeks his head into his office, looking unbelievably smug. Joonmyun wonders what angry god he had upset to deserve this.

"My dad wants to see you," Jongdae tells him. "I'm going to eat now. Bye, hyung~"

Cheeky brat, Joonmyun finds himself thinking before he can stop himself. He hadn't even asked to call him hyung.

Joonmyun finds himself in his boss' office about a minute later, fidgeting with his shirtsleeves.

"You can stop playing with your tie, Joonmyun-ssi," Jonghwan says behind him with a laugh. "You're not in trouble."

"I'm not?" Joonmyun asks, and immediately hates how terrified he sounds. He clears his throat.

Jonghwan gives him a smile, which does little to ease his nerves. "No. I just wanted to bring up the topic of my son to you."

"I'm so sorry," Joonmyun blurts out. "I didn't mean to tell him about your account information—"

Jonghwan waves a dismissive hand. "Don't mind the accounts. Jongdae wouldn't know what to do with that info even if it danced in front of him naked. I'm merely bringing him up because I'm rather pleased about how interested he's been in the business."

Now it's Joonmyun's turn to raise an eyebrow. _This_ is what he had been called in for?

"My entire life I've been trying to get Jongdae to follow me into corporate business." Jonghwan sighs, settling into his desk chair. "He never really showed much interest. He likes coming here in the mornings, but that's only because my employees like him and they entertain him.

"I don't know what you're doing in there with my son, Joonmyun-ssi," Jonghwan nods graciously, and Joonmyun flushes again. "But whatever it is, it's working."

"O-oh?" Joonmyun manages to respond back intelligently.

"I was hoping that you could continue to teach him about the company," Jonghwan confesses. "Take him under your wing, if you will. He seems to like you."

That much is apparent, Joonmyun thinks darkly. He swallows, looking up to meet his boss in the eye.

"I can do that," he finds himself promising, despite all the sirens going off in his head that are telling him that this is a bad, bad, bad idea.

Jonghwan's grin broadens. "Excellent. That's great to hear, Joonmyun-ssi. Of course, you'll still have your normal duties, but I'll see if I couldn't siphon off some of them to another department."

Joonmyun can hardly believe what he's hearing. Is his boss seriously proposing that he make tutoring his son in business a part of his job duties?

"Actually, I have a favor to ask you." Jonghwan stands up abruptly, and it's then (though not for the first time) that Joonmyun gets painfully reminded of his obligation to Jonghwan for what he'd done for him—the interview, the job, the increased pay. Already, Joonmyun knows that he can't refuse whatever his boss would ask him to do.

Jonghwan gives him a semi sheepish smile. "Would you mind picking Jongdae up from school this afternoon? You'll be on paid time, of course, and compensated for gas."

Joonmyun feels a weight drop into his stomach and he stands up, as well, mustering what might just  be the fakest smile in the universe. "Of course sir," he says. "Anything."

Yup. Joonmyun is royally fucked.

 

 

 

 

Joonmyun pulls up at Jongdae's school four hours later, fingers drumming nervously against his steering wheel. It reminds me him a lot of the school he used to want to attend when he was in high school.

Which was over six years ago, Joonmyun reminds himself. He was in high school six years ago.

It takes him a while to find Jongdae among the clusters of students, but eventually he sees Jongdae deep in conversation with two other boys his age.

"Jongdae," Joonmyun says tentatively, but he's pretty sure that Jongdae can't hear him. Instead, one of the boys he's talking to—a tall, gangly teenager with a mess of brown hair—catches his eye over Jongdae's shoulder and stares. It's enough to make Jongdae turn around.

"Hyung—!" Jongdae colors immediately. Joonmyun is distressed to find it alarmingly cute. "What are you doing here?"

The taller boy who'd caught his eye opens his mouth. "Wait, Jongdae, is this—"

Jongdae's other friend promptly elbows him in the ribs. "Shut up, Chanyeol."

"Um." With three different sets of eyes on him, Joonmyun feels awkward. "I'm picking you up today. Your dad's orders."

Jongdae exhales in a heady rush, and it occurs to Joonmyun that he might be... flustered? "The driver isn't picking me up?"

Joonmyun shakes his head. "Just me."

He doesn't know why saying it makes him feel so inadequate, but it does. But at the image of Jongdae's face brightening, Joonmyun's insides do a funny little dance.

Jongdae hitches his bag higher up on his shoulder, cheeks still slightly pink. "See you guys tomorrow."

Joonmyun walks him back to his car, feeling the awkwardness from the encounter seep into the air around them. "Do you normally get picked up by a driver?"

Jongdae nods, making little skips in his steps. It's surprisingly childlike and distressingly adorable at the same time.

They don't say anything as they get into Joonmyun's car, although he has the distinct feeling that Jongdae is trying to slip back into his coy character from the way he immediately switches on the radio and changes the station to something else.

"I think I definitely like having you pick me up instead of my driver," Jongdae pipes up after a couple of minutes.

Joonmyun hesitates, hands tightening on the wheel. "Well. It's just for today."

"Oh." Jongdae almost sounds disappointed. "How do you know?"

"I don't," Joonmyun admits.

Jongdae slumps in his seat, fiddling with his phone. Like this, he looks impossibly young: yet another reminder of his age. "I wish you picked me up all the time."

"Why?"

Jongdae shrugs. "I don't like the driver. He doesn't talk to me, and I have to sit in the back."

Joonmyun is about to offer a sympathetic comment when Jongdae adds, "Plus, you're better looking," and Joonmyun chokes back his words.

"I don't think that's quite appropriate of you to say," he says.

"Why not?" Jongdae's pouting, and Joonmyun's glad that he can't see the flush on his cheeks.

"Because." They turn into the parking lot of Suncorp. "Your father is my boss. It wouldn't be right."

"But it's true," Jongdae is looking at his phone again, and says it like it's nothing.

In truth, it should have been nothing. This is certainly not the first time Joonmyun has been complimented on his appearance, although it's probably the first time the compliment came from a seventeen year old's mouth. (It's definitely the first time Joonmyun has felt this affected.)

"Jongdae," Jonghwan greets him later when they walk in. "I have good news and bad news. Bad news is that your mother is going to be needing the driver for the next month or so, because I'm going to be working late."

Jongdae raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything.

"So, the good news is that I'm going to have Joonmyun-ssi pick you up from school."

Joonmyun feel his stomach drops to his shoes. "Sir?"

"That's okay, right?" Jonghwan looks at him, eyebrow cocked, lips pursed into an expectant smile. “A paid hour away from the office every day. Not much to complain about, in my honest opinion.."

He can see Jongdae grinning out of the corner of his eye, and it takes all of Joonmyun's control to keep the waver out of his voice. "Yes sir, you're absolutely right. I'd be happy to pick Jongdae up from school."

Jonghwan nods, pleased. "Excellent. Is that okay with you, Jongdae?"

Jongdae looks entirely too smug when he nods his agreement. "That's fine with me."

Joonmyun clears his throat uncomfortably. "I'll get back to work."

Jonghwan winks at him. "I'll make sure my son doesn't bother you."

Joonmyun can't quite stop the smile that appears on his face when Jongdae lets out a petulant whine. "I don't mind if he comes in every now and then."

And when Jongdae looks up at him, clearly delighted, Joonmyun can't help himself then either.

 

 

 

 

"Let's go eat, hyung," Jongdae says from the passenger's seat, kicking his feet.

"I'm only supposed to pick you up and take you back to the office," Joonmyun says. It's the third day of picking Jongdae up from school, and it hasn't gotten better at all.

Jongdae pouts his lips. "Technically our food can be on the way back to the office, hyung. I'm hungry."

Joonmyun sighs, looking at his watch. He'd left the office twenty minutes ago. If they stopped to eat now, they wouldn't be back for another hour. Even though Jonghwan had assured him that he would always be on paid time, Joonmyun is pretty sure that his boss wouldn't like him spending that much time away from the office (and his projects).

Still—Joonmyun glances over at his boss' son, at Jongdae staring at him with upturned eyebrows and his lower lip sticking out, and he knows he's lost the fight.

"What do you want to eat?"

Jongdae's eyes perk up. "Ice cream!"

Joonmyun frowns. "That's not real food."

But that doesn't stop him from turning off the main road to park in front of a shopping center, anyway.

"Your father's going to kill me," Joonmyun says, watching Jongdae devour his ice cream. Vanilla, naturally, because of _course_ it to be fucking vanilla.

As if reading Joonmyun’s mind, Jongdae sticks his tongue out to lap up a small trickle of ice cream running down the cone. Joonmyun swears there's a twinkle in his eyes.

"My dad won't even care," Jongdae tells him. "He'll just put it on me or something. You don't have to worry."

"That's not exactly reassuring."

"Hyung." Jongdae looks him straight in the eyes. "My dad likes you, okay? Don't stress out. Take a break."

Joonmyun blinks back at him, unnerved. Half of him doesn't exactly like being bossed around by a seventeen year old, but at the same time there's something incredibly refreshing about being told to relax. Joonmyun sighs again.

"Maybe you're right."

Jongdae nods, pleased. "Why didn't you get an ice cream, hyung?"

"I'm not really an ice cream person."

"But why? It's so good—here, try some—"

And this is how Joonmyun finds himself face to face with a spoonful of dripping vanilla ice cream, Jongdae's bright eyes looking at him expectantly.

"Jongdae—"

Jongdae pouts, inching the spoon closer. "Please?"

Joonmyun nearly goes cross-eyed staring at it. This is probably ten different kinds of inappropriate, but for a second Joonmyun lets himself imagine leaning forward to have a taste, the treat cool and creamy and sticky, Jongdae's fingers brushing against his mouth—

Joonmyun gently pushes the spoon back towards Jongdae. "You eat it," he says, letting out a sigh. "We need to go back soon."

He can see the flash of disappointment in Jongdae's eyes and—maybe he's just was imagining it—the slump of his shoulders on the car ride back to the office.

Jongdae slinks out of the car without a word once Joonmyun puts the car in park, and it's all he can do to not shake his head.

"I was beginning to think that you kidnapped my son," Jonghwan grins at him the moment Joonmyun steps back into the office. That's all it takes for Joonmyun's heart to leap into his throat, panicking, before Jonghwan laughs.

"Relax, Joonmyun-ssi, I'm just playing."

Hands prickly with sweat, Joonmyun forces out a pained laugh. "Of course, sir. You know me too well."

Jonghwan hums and nods. "I'll be expecting that report on my desk by the time you leave."

Joonmyun bows again. "Of course."

Perhaps it's because of what he said in the car that Jongdae doesn't come wandering into his office for the rest of that afternoon. As Joonmyun packs up at the end of the day, he can't tell if his absence is unwelcome or not.

 ****  
  
  
  
  
  


Even with living close by, the drive home still takes over half an hour due to the traffic. Joonmyun lets his fingers drum absently against his steering wheel. When he lets himself in, a resounding silence greets him.

Joonmyun has been living here since his second year out of college, when he was still working for the shithole of his former employer.

Of course, that was when he was still with Kyungsoo and they'd shared the rent equally. Joonmyun remembers what the place looked like back then—all of Kyungsoo's things taking over and blending with Joonmyun's. Kyungsoo's toothbrush, Joonmyun's shaving cream, their coffee mugs. The apartment was happily crowded with their life and dreams and each other.

But after they fell apart, it had become much different. When Kyungsoo walked out of his life on a plane to Los Angeles, over half the apartment had gone with him. The intimacy, the affection, the feeling of being a home. It has already been over two years ago, but Joonmyun can still see feel the lack, sharp and keen, in his bones.

Even so, the spaces in his bedroom and bathroom seem far too quiet without the rustle and movement of someone else to fill them.

It took half a year for Joonmyun to become used to coming home to an empty apartment—no greeting kiss on his cheek or the staticky television playing an obscure European noir film. Kyungsoo had always loved those kind of films. They helped with his own acting, he'd said.

Joonmyun never knew much about acting (he still doesn't) apart from how to look convincingly sick after calling into work with the stomach flu. Even then, Kyungsoo would have probably failed his performance.

He lies in his bed, staring up at cracks in his ceiling. If Joonmyun squints hard enough, he can see where, Kyungsoo had pointed out to him, they almost looked like constellations.

"There," Joonmyun remembers Kyungsoo whispering, mouth pressed tight and close to his ear, "That could be Libra."

Joonmyun remembers frowning up at them, trying to follow Kyungsoo's finger as he'd traced in midair, looping figures that Joonmyun couldn't decipher. Kyungsoo had always been hard for him to understand. Maybe that had been the appeal.

"They're just lines in the plaster," Joonmyun had said, and then came Kyungsoo's laughter, low and breathy and just a little bit wheezy. The wheeze always made Kyungsoo sound like he was running out of air, that he could never drink in enough oxygen to breathe.

"You just need to imagine, Joonmyun."

Kyungsoo had kind of been like a candle that turned into a fire. Joonmyun often wonders, on nights like these when the regret still feels fresh, too burning hot and new, if it had been Kyungsoo who took too much energy or if it was Joonmyun who couldn't give him enough.

Joonmyun's phone lights up next to him on his pillow, and—though the number on the screen is not one he recognizes—the message he reads leaves no doubt in his mind as to who it might be.

_dad gave me your number~ cool, huh?? i'll send u lots of texts hyung ㅋㅋㅋ_

He doesn't even realize that he's smiling as he programs Jongdae's number into his phone. In the last few moments before Joonmyun falls asleep with Jongdae's text pressed faced down into his chest, Joonmyun does not think about Kyungsoo at all.

 

 

 

 

After another week, Joonmyun thinks he's gotten used to the surprise visits to his office by both Jonghwan and his son already, the two of them sharing the same pleased curl of their mouths when they smile. Joonmyun expects Jongdae more than Jonghwan, but it's when his boss pokes his head in one particular day that Joonmyun finds himself caught off guard.

"Mr. Kim," Joonmyun greets him over his computer, unconsciously biting down on his bottom lip. "What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted your advice on an issue," Jonghwan says, settling himself into one of the guest chairs. The way he reclines in the seat reminds Joonmyun an awful lot of Jongdae's way of sitting, and he chokes back a snort because Jonghwan turns to look at him seriously.

"My advice, sir?"

Jonghwan nods, steepling his fingers. "My fellow executives and I were thinking of further expanding Suncorp. What do you think?"

Joonmyun blinks at him. "I don't see why that would be a bad idea, as long as you had the capital investments and a source of funding."

"We have more than enough for a new branch, but many of my colleagues are under the impression that our offices in Shanghai and Taipei are more than enough."

"Where were you thinking of expanding to, sir?"

Jonghwan grins. "Los Angeles."

Joonmyun cocks an eyebrow. "That's quite far, sir."

"It is, isn't it?" Jonghwan sighs, and crosses his ankles. "Too risky, too much uncertainty. That's what everyone seems to be saying."

"Not necessarily," Joonmyun says, and pauses. He's been with Suncorp for about two weeks now, technically still on his probationary period, but Joonmyun's experience extends far beyond his current position. Having majored in finance and working extensively for the shitty job that barely paid him, Joonmyun is quite comfortable on the subject. Jonghwan gives him a nod, and Joonmyun continues.

"There are always going to be risks, no doubt about that, but I think it would be well worth the chance. Los Angeles has a high number of residents in your target demographic. All Suncorp needs is someone familiar enough with the area to keep it afloat with the other competitors."

Joonmyun hesitates, still unsure if any of his thoughts were out of line, but Jonghwan is smiling.

"This is why I like you, Joonmyun-ssi." Jonghwan stands up, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. "You're practical, but you're not afraid to have a bigger vision."

"Sir?" Joonmyun swallows, watching his supervisor leave his office. "Was that all you needed to ask me?"

Jonghwan pauses, one foot out the door. "For now, yes. Have a good day, Joonmyun-ssi."

No sooner than Jonghwan leaves does someone else take his place, a tall young man that Joonmyun faintly remembers as Changmin. A USB flashdrive dangles from his fingers.

"Hi, Joonmyun-ssi," Changmin says, bowing his head, and Joonmyun scrambles up to bow back. "I think we met briefly a couple of weeks ago? I work for Kim Jonghwan-ssi, and I wanted to discuss the details of a new assignment he wanted me to work on with you."

Joonmyun stares at him, at a loss for words. New assignment? With one of Jonghwan's lackeys?

Changmin grins, showing a great number of white, straight teeth. "No need to stress out, Joonmyun-ssi, boss is going to compensate you for the extra time you put in with me. Think of it as freelancing, but with the benefit of having to work for your own company instead of some shady jerkoff."

Joonmyun laughs weakly, feeling undeniably cornered. But what was he supposed to say? Jonghwan had promised to pay him extra. "Okay, I'm all ears."

Changmin settles down on the chair Jonghwan had previously been sitting in and pushes the flashdrive across Joonmyun's desk.

"Take a look at the folders inside."

Despite being wary, Joonmyun plugs the drive into his work computer, clicking on the popup window to view the contents. There are five different folders: Market Research, Funding Ventures, Staff Relocation, Procedural Policy, and Executive Presentation. Joonmyun's eyes widen.

"Is this—?"

"I'm sure Jonghwan-ssi filled you in on what he's trying to do for the company, this branch in Los Angeles," Changmin explains. "He would like you and I to work on this project for him. It'll be a year-long thing, and the goal at the end of December would be a final presentation to the executive board at Suncorp by Jonghwan-ssi, myself, and you."

Joonmyun shakes his head, bewildered. "He chose me to be part of this team?"

"Jonghwan-ssi likes you," Changmin says, grinning. "He thinks you'd be right for the job."

"I–" The folders swim in front of him, numbers and facts and deadlines, and he begins to feel faint. In particular, the Staff Relocation folder is what had stood out to him the most, burning bright into the insides of his eyelids. Joonmyun knows he's thinking way ahead of himself, but the thought of being relocated to Los Angeles...

Changmin stands up, beckoning for the flash drive. "You don't have to give me an answer right now, but I would think about it seriously."

Joonmyun ejects the drive and deposits it into Changmin's outstretched palm. "I have to admit that I feel a little strange knowing that Jonghwan-ssi picked me over my more experienced colleagues."

"Like I said," Changmin says, "he likes you quite a bit. This could be a very big opportunity. Let us know by the end of this week."

Joonmyun nods meekly as Changmin leaves, completely at a loss. For the first time that week, he is immensely glad that Jongdae does not come by to see him like this.

 

 

 

 

His footsteps fall hard and heavy, the soles of his sneakers hitting the treadmill's track in time to the rush of blood in his ears. Joonmyun wipes his forehead and pushes his earbud deeper into his ear. On the treadmill next to him, Minseok grins at him from behind his water bottle.

Five minutes later, Joonmyun hits the 'cool down' button, allowing his pace to slow to a steady jog. From the corner of his eye, he sees Minseok trying to tell him something, and Joonmyun pauses his music.

"I asked you," Minseok manages between pants of breath. Although he's on a cool down too, his pace is still about three levels up from Joonmyun's. "if you were feeling alright. You looked pretty out of it when we were running."

Joonmyun laughs, mopping up more sweat on his brow. His legs feel like iron and he wants more than ever to just drop to the floor and sleep his exhaustion off, but not without a proper cool-down and stretch. "Things have gotten hectic at work," he says, yanking his earbuds out of his ears and letting them dangle around his neck.

Minseok shakes his head, taking another swig from his water bottle. His lean, muscled arms shimmer under a layer of sweat, wife beater completely soaked through on the front and back. Joonmyun would never wear something like that, although Minseok has always been a bit flashier than he is.

"What, don't tell me this company is giving you trouble, too?" Minseok slows down in his jogging a bit to match Joonmyun's pace. "I thought you said they were a good match for you."

"It's not that," Joonmyun says. "My boss is really good at making sure I get paid for all the things that I do."

"What's the problem then?"

"There's no problem. It's just that my boss asked me to be part of his project to open up a branch of the company in Los Angeles. And it seems like a lot of pressure but he's shown me so much favoritism that it feels like I can't say no."

Minseok raises an eyebrow at him and Joonmyun winces, feeling a lecture coming on. After Joonmyun had quit his old job, Minseok offered Joonmyun to work out with him to fill his time while job hunting for a better position.

For the past six months, it had been nice to spend two nights a week with his college roommate, lifting weights and running until his breath came short and sparse. It had helped a lot with getting his mind off things, and even now Joonmyun is grateful for Minseok's grinning face every Tuesday and Thursday night.

"Honestly, Joonmyun, it sounds like you're overthinking it."

Joonmyun frowns slightly. His cool-down is just about over, and his pace had slowed to a brisk walk. "You always say that."

"That's because it's true." Minseok lets the treadmill track carry him backwards before jumping off, reaching for his towel.

"But—" Joonmyun also steps off his treadmill, joining Minseok on the floor for their stretches. "I don't want him to get the wrong idea. I don't want to relocate or anything."

Minseok gives him a pointed look. "Is it that you don't want to relocate or that you don't want to be in the same city as Kyungsoo?"

Joonmyun bites his lip. He hadn't wanted to bring it up, but as always Minseok is able to see right through him. For the six months following Kyungsoo leaving him, Joonmyun had fantasized moving to Los Angeles to try to win him back, but even then he knew that it wouldn't have worked. No matter how hard they tried, they would never work.

"Both, I guess," Joonmyun says softly.

Minseok sighs. "Joonmyun, look—I know this is how you are. Like, it's cool, I get it. Change is scary, bigger change is even scarier. But for the whole six years that I've known you, you've always been shying away from committing to bigger things."

"I know," Joonmyun says, shame coloring his face a deep pink. Minseok had never been one to sugarcoat his honesty. He's grateful for that now, even as the guilt settles heavy into his stomach.

"I don't want to tell you how to live your life, okay?" Minseok offers him a crooked grin. "But I think you need to think about this one more. Don't discount it. You don't even know if you'll be relocated."

Joonmyun nods without replying, letting his longtime friend pull him to his feet. "My life would be in ruins without you."

Minseok laughs, smacking him on the back. "Without me, you'd still be in business school."

Smiling weakly, Joonmyun follows him out of the gym, Kyungsoo and Los Angeles and Changmin buzzing through his mind.

 

 

 

 

Sometimes, Joonmyun pulls up Google on his phone to search "Kyungsoo Do Los Angeles." He tells himself it's not out of a sense of obligation, of duty to make sure that he's fine, but most of the time he's lying.

The thing is that Kyungsoo is as tough as nails. Joonmyun knows this, has known it ever since they started dating. He knows that Kyungsoo is a grown man fully capable of taking care of himself, which—Joonmyun supposes—was what had attracted him in the first place. Kyungsoo's quiet independence, his uncanny ability to spend prolonged periods of time by himself. He wasn't someone that needed to be coddled.

And yet—Joonmyun finds himself wondering about him. Was he feeding himself? Did he remember to water his plants? Had he landed any auditions? Questions that Joonmyun has no right to know the answers to, questions that Joonmyun can't help but ask in his own head.

Ever since Kyungsoo left, he'd abandoned all of his Korean social media, making it even harder for him to keep up with his activities. Joonmyun knows that people in America use Facebook, but the website confuses him and something tells him that it would be weird to sign up for Facebook just to check on Kyungsoo.

So most of the time, Joonmyun Googles his name and hopes that something will pop up, something like a small film with Kyungsoo's name in the cast list.

But every time he gets nothing. Joonmyun is left to wonder.

 

 

 

 

The next morning trudges by with the atrocious slowness of a summer day, long and tedious.

A knock sounds on the doorframe of his office, and Joonmyun flinches. He’s been trying to avoid both Jonghwan and Changmin all morning, but when he looks up, he only sees Jongdae lingering in the doorway with a lollipop in his mouth.

“I’m busy today, Jongdae,” Joonmyun half mumbles, turning back to his computer screen in the hope that his boss’ son will just go away for once so he won't have to look at the uniform pants hugging Jongdae's ass.

Jongdae doesn’t budge. “I’ve never seen you without your jacket,” he points out, words slightly slurred around the candy in his mouth.

It’s Friday, which meant casual clothes. Joonmyun would usually just wear a dress shirt without his tie, a blazer, and jeans, but today was slightly hotter so he’d forgone the blazer.

Joonmyun looks up with a tight smile. “Now you have."

When it becomes apparent that Jongdae isn’t going anywhere, Joonmyun sighs. “Do you want to sit instead of standing there all day?"

“I thought you were busy,” Jongdae smirks at him, plopping down on a guest chair. Joonmyun thinks it’s kind of pathetic how much of a routine this has become—Jongdae slowly worming his way into his work schedule and life, and Joonmyun slowly learning to accept it.

“It looks like I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?” Joonmyun answers without even looking up.

Jongdae makes a petulant noise as his response. “If you want me to leave, you can just say it."

“And risk you complaining to your dad and getting my ass kicked?” Joonmyun mutters out loud before he realizes it, and then shuts his mouth. Jongdae is staring at him slightly awestruck. “Pretend you didn’t hear that."

“Do you really think I’d rat you out to my dad?” Jongdae asks him, shifting to sit sideways in his chair. “I’m not like that, hyung. I like you."

 _I like you._ A weird sensation pools in his stomach as Joonmyun types something into the report he’s working on. “I know."

 

 

 

 

Joonmyun hears his phone go off just as he's getting ready for bed, notifying him of a message. Joonmyun hears the notification and sees Jongdae's name pop up onto his screen. From the preview, he can see that it's a picture.

Joonmyun frowns and opens it.

Jongdae's face peers up at him from the corner of a badly-taken selca. Most of the photo is out of focus, but Joonmyun can see a pair of long legs from behind Jongdae.

 _hi hyung,_ the message reads, _hi hey ho heyyyyy_

A smile pulls at Joonmyun's mouth before he can help it.

 _are you drinking?_ he types back. Joonmyun thinks that he should probably be a little more concerned, considering that Jongdae is only in high school.

_its ok im with chanbyeol and baekhyun_

_is that supposed to make me feel better?_

_yea!! at least were not out wandering the stereets rite??_

Joonmyun sighs. Before he gets a chance to reply, Jongdae sends him another picture. It's at least in focus this time—a photo of Baekhyun sprawled out on the floor on his tummy.

 _don't forget to drink water_ , Joonmyun tells him.

Jongdae doesn't send him anything else for a good thirty minutes, and—as Joonmyun finally gets into bed—he thinks that Jongdae might have fallen asleep.

But as his eyes are starting to drift shut, another photo arrives. Joonmyun opens it and swallows hard.

It's a picture of Jongdae, who had clearly moved from the living room of Chanyeol's house to someone's bed. Jongdae's eyes are closed, mouth curved up in a dreamy, sleepy smile. He's making a lazy peace sign, and the wide neck of his t-shirt is slipping down over one of his shoulders.

_youre not gonana tell on me to my da d  rihgt?_

It takes Joonmyun quite a bit of will power to close out of the photo to reply.

_of course not._

hyugn is realyl the best

_i like you so muhc_

Joonmyun bites his lip. The words on his screen seem to have taken on lives of their own. In the bright little light of his phone screen, he can feel the way they seem to leap off and cross the distance between Jongdae on Chanyeol's bed to Joonmyun in his bedroom.

_go to sleep, jongdae._

_sned me a pic of you huyng. please??_

Joonmyun squints at the tiny yellow bubble of Jongdae's message. It's horrendously close to one in the morning and he's practically halfway asleep, but Joonmyun gives in just the same.

It's a shitty selca because all his lights are off, and the photo is grainy and mostly Joonmyun's eyes squinting in his phone light. But he sends it anyway, watching as the little number 1 disappears next to the photo.

_youer so cute hyung_

A leaden feeling makes its way into his stomach as he rolls over onto his side. He doesn’t have the heart to answer.

 ****  
  
  
  


Jonghwan looks up, mild surprise evident on his face. “Joonmyun-ssi! You’re here quite late."

Joonmyun smiles tightly, taking it as permission to come in. Jonghwan’s office is not as large as he was expecting it to be—perhaps one and half times bigger than Joonmyun’s office—but it’s a corner office. The large windows shimmer at him from behind Jonghwan’s desk, dusky sky turning a gentle purple. It’s a reminder that he’s been in the office for nearly ten hours now.

“I wanted to talk to you about the project Changmin-ssi told me about."

The approval that enters Jonghwan’s face is immediate and somewhat intimidating, but Joonmyun presses forward anyway.

“Did you think about it?"

Joonmyun nods. “I thought about it a lot… and I decided I would be honored to help you on your project."

Jonghwan claps his hands together, standing up, a broad smile spreading across his face. “That’s fantastic to hear. I trust that Changmin filled you in on all the details?"

“He showed me a flash drive,” Joonmyun says. “But that’s it. And he took it back later."

Jonghwan nods thoughtfully. “You’ll need to have one of your own. We have all of our data backed up to cloud servers, but I’d like for us to carry around physical copies while we’re working on it."

Joonmyun swallows, forcing down all thoughts that were going off in his head, telling him that this was a mistake. “I have a flash drive I could bring tomorrow."

“Good,” Jonghwan says. “Do you think you could come in around seven tomorrow? I’d like to go over the folders in more detail with you."

“Sure,” Joonmyun says. “No problem."

He leaves Jonghwan’s office feeling both shaken up and empty at the same time, clenching and unclenching his fists. The moment he’s around a corner, he stops to breathe in deeply, leaning against the wall.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he answers it distractedly. “Hello?"

“Did you do it??"

Joonmyun winces, holding the phone away from his ear. Even on the phone, Lu Han’s voice is far too loud. “Minseok probably told you, huh,” he says once he finally moves it back.

“You totally did it,” Lu Han coos, completely ignoring the accusation. “I knew you could, Joonmyunnie. We should celebrate."

“Why?” Joonmyun asks crossly, shifting his phone to the other hand so he could fish his keys out of his pocket, having stopped in front of his office. “It’s not like I got promoted."

Lu Han makes an impatient tch-ing noise and by the point, Joonmyun knows that it’s pretty much impossible to refuse. “Minseok and I are going out tonight. Yixing’s coming. You should too."

“Where and what time?”

But whatever Lu Han says, Joonmyun completely misses it. Joonmyun’s office had not been unlocked at all and swings open with a gentle touch. Inside, Jongdae is asleep at his desk, fluffy bangs falling all over his forehead in every which way, cheek pillowed on his arms. Something in Joonmyun’s chest clenches, seeing Jongdae sleeping all over his things.

“Joonmyun? Are you there?"

"Yeah." Joonmyun swallows, edging into his office carefully, trying not to wake him, but Jongdae is already stirring at his desk.

"Hyung?" he mumbles, blinking sleepily at him over the fold of his arms.

"Tell Minseok I'll call him back," Joonmyun says distractedly into his phone before hanging up. "Why are you still here?"

Jongdae sits up properly, rubbing at his eyes in the bright of the fluorescent light. "Sorry—I fell asleep."

Joonmyun sighs. "Do you need a ride home?"

Jongdae shakes his head. "I think my dad's still here."

"He doesn't look like he'll be leaving anytime soon," Joonmyun says, frowning.

"That's pretty normal." Jongdae yawns wide and stretches. "I'm used to it."

Joonmyun's phone buzzes in his hand, and he checks it to see a Katalk from Lu Han.

_we're going to sinsa tonight just for u :) meet us at the subway station at 9!!!_

He looks back at Jongdae, still rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Will you be okay here?"

Jongdae's laughter is surprisingly loud in the quiet of his office. "Of course, hyung. My dad's here."

Joonmyun forces himself to smile. "Right—I'll just... see you tomorrow?"

"Mmm." Jongdae is already slumped back down on his desk. "See you tomorrow, hyung."

Ignoring the nagging pull at his brain, Joonmyun leaves him like that, half asleep. Lu Han is good on his word—he, Minseok, and Yixing are all waiting for him.

"Congratulations," Minseok grins at him, thumping him a little too hard on the back. "Did you finally convince yourself that you could handle it?"

Joonmyun rubs at the back of his neck. "Something like that. Where are we going?"

Yixing grins. "Secret."

"I don't like the sound of that," Joonmyun begins dubiously, but allows Lu Han and Yixing to each take one of his arms and march him down the sidewalk, Minseok following them laughing.

The grand secret ends up being a bar a couple of streets down. Joonmyun sits down at the bar and looks around. "I've never been here before."

"Of course you haven't," Lu Han huffs. "It's new."

"Where did you hear about it?" Joonmyun asks, peering down at the laminated menu in interest.

Minseok nudges him in the side with his elbow. "Coworker recommended it to me. Should be good, cause we're getting you drunk tonight."

"Please," Joonmyun says, wincing. "Not too much. I still have to go to work tomorrow like a normal person."

"Not our fault you picked the boring job with regular hours," Lu Han says breezily. Joonmyun shakes his head. Lu Han had an Editorial position with an entertainment magazine and worked mostly from home. Joonmyun sometimes wonders if his life would have been easier if he'd majored in something more liberal artsy.

"Here you go, mister important." Yixing slides a glass of something luridly orange colored in front of him and Joonmyun blinks. He hadn't even noticed Yixing ordering. "I think this has about three shots in it."

"Wonderful," Joonmyun mutters, and tries a sip. It's sour and tangy and not half-bad.

Lu Han smirks. "You're surprisingly compliant tonight tonight. Any particular reason?"

"Joonmyun took a day off from being a passive bastard," Minseok says, raising his eyebrows. "What are the big plans?"

"There aren't any yet," Joonmyun says, feeling slightly embarrassed. He's half beginning to wish that he never even took Jonghwan up on his offer, but what's done is done.

"Well, drink up," Yixing says brightly. "We've got a long night ahead of us."

Joonmyun clinks his glass reluctantly with the rest of theirs and sighs. The night would be long indeed.

 

 

 

 

The numbers in front of his face swim on the computer screen, and Joonmyun has to physically restrain himself from screaming aloud. The pain boring tight in between his eyes is close to making his eyes water. He doesn't remember what time he got home last night, but he does remember waking up half an hour late with barely enough time to jump in the shower.

He's here now, roughly two hours later, and very much hating his life decisions. Mostly, he hates Yixing and those stupid neon colored drinks. And Lu Han's terrible jokes. And Minseok for laughing at them. Joonmyun groans, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

"Are you okay, hyung?"

Joonmyun looks up blearily. Jongdae had paused in his doorway, a distressing mix of concern and amusement on his face.

"Not today, Jongdae," Joonmyun mutters. "I'm not feeling well."

Jongdae makes a small sympathetic noise. "Are you hungover? You look like you drank last night."

Joonmyun only nods because he doesn't have the patience or energy to argue otherwise. He sighs again and turns away from Jongdae to go back to his spreadsheet. "When you're older and start working, don't drink on weekday nights."

"Yes sir," Jongdae says, surprisingly solemn. It takes Joonmyun a couple seconds of silence to realize that Jongdae had disappeared. Just as well, he thinks. At least now he'll be able to concentrate.

His peaceful air of concentration doesn't last long. Jongdae returns half an hour later with a bottle of water and a pastry.

"Jongdae—" Joonmyun begins to protest, but Jongdae shakes his head and pushes them into his hands.

"You didn't eat this morning, huh?" And the look on Jongdae's face is so serious and determined, so starkly different from his usual wide-eyed look of feigned innocence, that Joonmyun takes the food with a touch of bewilderment.

"You didn't have to do this."

The smile that Jongdae gives him then is alarmingly soft. "I can be considerate when I want to."

Joonmyun smiles back feebly. "Thank you."

“Guess what, hyung?”

“What?”

Jongdae grins. “It’s my birthday the day after tomorrow. You should take me out tomorrow.”

Joonmyun raises an eyebrow. “Are you trying to get a free meal out of me?”

Jongdae laughs. “I don’t have to do that to get a free meal out of you,” he says, tongue between his teeth. “Come on, hyung, let’s hang out tomorrow night.”

It’s really difficult to say no, Joonmyun finds, when Jongdae’s eyes glitter with excitement. He sighs. “Where should I meet you?”

The grin Jongdae gives him is entirely too smug. “I’ll send you my address.”

 ****  
  
  
  
  


In the end, Joonmyun can only half-blame Jongdae. Part of him wanted to—in a way—because Jongdae was a great kid who just wanted attention. And if Joonmyun can give him that, there’s no way he’s refusing.

He learns that Jongdae—for all of his flourishes and excitability—is surprisingly low maintenance. Joonmyun takes him out to dinner somewhere in Apgujeong before Jongdae insists they watch a movie at CO-EX, followed by a perfunctory walk through the aquarium before it closes.

By the time Joonmyun drives Jongdae home, it’s already 11:46PM. He yawns, feeling the first trickles of exhaustion beginning to tug at his limbs. He really is not accustomed to staying up this late anymore.

“Thank you for today,” Jongdae says, sounding shy. He makes no sign to get out. “I had fun.”

In the silence that follows, Joonmyun grips the steering wheel tighter. “You should probably head inside. Your parents will wonder what’s keeping you."

Jongdae lets out a hollow laugh. "I doubt it. They're always busy. They just give me money like they always do."

The bitterness in Jongdae's voice surprises him, but Joonmyun swallows around the apprehension building up in his throat as Jongdae turns to him with a strange look in his eyes.

"But you care about me, hyung, don't you?"

Jongdae is so dangerously close to him—he can see the curve of every single one of his eyelashes, the quiver of his mouth. Joonmyun's heart is a hammering gong in his ribcage.

"Jongdae—" he starts. Jongdae is practically in his lap, hands on the side of the seat and the center console, and Joonmyun can't bring himself to look away.

"Hyung," Jongdae murmurs, and like that, hearing the way the word falls from his lips—thick and cloying—is enough to turn the blood in his veins to fire.

Jongdae's hand is on his leg now, fingertips digging in just above his knee. Joonmyun finds himself caged in, unsure, wanting, confused.

"This isn't right," he croaks out. "Your father, my job—"

"What my dad doesn't know won't hurt him," Jongdae breathes, and then those exquisite hands are on his shoulders.

It's no use lying to himself, Joonmyun thinks, staring back helplessly into Jongdae's face, not when for the past month Joonmyun's body had been reacting instinctively to the curve of Jongdae's throat, his legs, that smile. Jongdae's mouth is millimeters away from his, and—for one terrifying, earth-shattering second—Joonmyun almost lets Jongdae kiss him.

But something heavy clunks into his chest with a deafening finality, one that makes Joonmyun push Jongdae away. He sees the way Jongdae's eyes darken with disappointment.

"I can't," Joonmyun whispers finally. "I—you're _seventeen_."

It's his last line of defense. Joonmyun can't get any more desperate than he is now, with Jongdae straddling his thighs and staring at him like that, and then—incredibly—Jongdae laughs.

Joonmyun stares, wonderingly, as Jongdae fishes his phone out of his pocket. There's an expression on his face that he can't quite place, but as soon as Jongdae turns his screen around, mouth curled and intentful, Joonmyun sees it.

September 21st. 12:07 AM. Jongdae is looking at him through his eyelashes.

"Not anymore," he says softly.

And that's all it takes. Joonmyun stares back at him—mind a blurred maelstrom of unanswered questions, every inch of his body burning with want, with need—and makes up his mind.

"Thank _god_ ," Joonmyun breathes.

 

 

 

 

When he walks into the office the next morning, Joonmyun’s not entirely sure what he’s expecting to be different. Bits and slivers of the previous night keep coming back to him in hot, persistent flashes—Jongdae’s hands in his hair, on his neck, fingertips sliding just past the edge of his collar, the warm wet of his mouth.

He’s not sure if he’s grateful or not when Jongdae doesn’t appear with his father. It buys him half a day of uninterrupted work time, but Joonmyun knows he’ll have to face Jongdae eventually when his school ends.

The next five hours fly by at a dizzying pace, and all too soon it seems like Joonmyun is pulling up to the curbside of Jongdae’s high school, stomach a tangled and jumpy mess of nerves and apprehension.

Jongdae comes out of the classroom building, flanked by his friends on each side, and Joonmyun braces himself for the coy, snarky comment he’s sure Jongdae has ready.

Miraculously, Jongdae says nothing as he lets himself into the cool interior of Joonmyun’s car. His face is infuriatingly blank when he greets him, and proceeds to immerse himself in another one of his noisy phone games.

Joonmyun exhales, somewhat frazzled. The entire drive back to Suncorp, Jongdae doesn’t say a single word, and just as he’s beginning to hope that Jongdae had decided to forget the whole ordeal, Jongdae clears his throat.

They had already gotten out of the car, now in the elevator to take them up to Suncorp’s administrative offices. Jongdae sends him a glance sideways, lashes thick and black around his eyes, and smirks.

“So,” he begins, and just like that the rush of heat surges back in Joonmyun’s face.

“So,” Joonmyun repeats. “Um—"

“Did you touch yourself at all?” The question falls, hot and liquid, from Jongdae’s lips with ease, as if he were asking about the weather, his voice even and steady. “Because I definitely did. After you left."

Joonmyun swallows, gaze fixed determinedly at a point in the elevator wall. It’s then that Jongdae shifts, and Joonmyun realizes a second too late that he’d slid up right against him, his shoulders burning through Joonmyun’s jacket where they’re touching his. “I came so hard,” he continues, without the slightest hint of shame. “I was thinking about you kissing me."

They’re almost at the floor of his office, and Joonmyun can start to feel a sticky heat gathering in all the crevices of his body. “Jongdae,” he says, in a low, tight voice. Joonmyun is still refusing to look at him. “Last night was—"

“I want to kiss you again,” Jongdae interrupts. This time Joonmyun can’t help turning his head to look at him, and regrets it immediately. Jongdae’s face is a perfect mask of calm, eyes sharp and intent and meaningful, boring directly into his own. Joonmyun inhales sharply, cursing mentally as he feels his body begin to betray him, heat flooding between his legs.

“I want to kiss you everywhere.” Jongdae breaks eye contact with him, hitching his bag up higher on his shoulder. “You have a break soon, right?"

Joonmyun closes his eyes and tries to even out his breathing. “Y-yeah."

Jongdae smiles then, surprisingly soft and at odds with the filthy words coming out of his mouth. “There’s a bathroom two floors up that no one uses. Maybe I’ll see you there."

And before Joonmyun can reply, the elevator dings with his floor. Shaken and flustered, Joonmyun steps out of the elevator car, turning to see Jongdae smirking at him just as the doors slide shut. More than likely, Jongdae is probably heading to his father’s office on the next level. Joonmyun exhales, every inch of his body feeling hot and tight.

Twenty minutes later, Joonmyun finds himself waiting in the ninth floor bathroom, rocking back and forth on the balls of his heels. How Jongdae knew he had a break soon is completely beyond him, but Joonmyun had decided that he was going to go to meet him. Specifically, to tell Jongdae that this was absolutely the worst idea. Yes, that’s the reason.

The door pushes open, and Jongdae walks in. “Hyung,” he murmurs, a pleased curl to his mouth, and Joonmyun’s mind momentarily goes back.

“Jongdae—“

But before he manages to finish his sentence, Jongdae crosses the distance between them in two quick strides, loops his arms around Joonmyun’s neck, and _kisses_ him.

And like this, Joonmyun remembers that last night had not been a dream at all. These lips kissing him now, the arms around his neck, the small waist that Joonmyun grabs clumsily—they’re all real, ingrained into his mind. This is real, this is actually happening. It’s enough to make Joonmyun grab onto Jongdae’s shoulders and push him back a step.

“Jongdae,” Joonmyun says again, taking in the way Jongdae’s eye slide open, lips parted and flushed, and his stomach clenches guiltily around the want burning deep inside him.

“You don’t want to?” It’s ridiculous, Joonmyun thinks, how remarkably simply it is for Jongdae. “Last night, it seemed like you wanted to."

Joonmyun swallows again, lets his hands slide down the tops of Jongdae’s arms, stroking gently. “I-I do, but—"

“Then what?” Jongdae had reached up to cover Joonmyun’s hands with his own. He gives him a small, secretive smile—sending another whooping feeling through his body—and links their fingers together. “You should be able to have the things that you want."

“Life isn’t that easy,” Joonmyun says. He’s dismayed to find that, rather than burning out, the desire inside him is only growing stronger. “Sometimes we want things we shouldn’t have."

Jongdae steps closer, looks at him from underneath his lashes. “I want you, hyung. Are you saying I can’t have you?"

Joonmyun doesn’t know what to say. Jongdae is there, _right there_ , so easy and lovely and offering. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, and the burn in his abdomen grows stronger still.

“This is a bad idea,” Joonmyun says finally, but he’s leaning in already, hand sliding up the curve of Jongdae’s neck, tilting his chin up. “This is such a bad idea."

“I want you,” Jongdae breathes, and his eyes are so, so bright. “Can I—?"

Joonmyun closes his eyes, breathes in Jongdae’s scent, clean and bright and a bit like fabric softener. “You can."

He doesn’t push away when Jongdae kisses him again. His hands come up to bracket the slim of Jongdae’s hips, fingers digging in just the slightest. Jongdae makes a breathy, appreciative noise, and then all of a sudden the ember-dim burn inside him is glowing white, white, burning hot.

Jongdae kisses away, sucking gently at Joonmyun’s lower lip as he pulls back. “When does your break end?"

Joonmyun checks his watch, trying to regulate his breathing. “In ten minutes."

Jongdae grins wickedly, and before Joonmyun knows what’s happening, Jongdae is walking them backwards into a bathroom stall. He slides the lock home before turning around again.

“Hyung,” he murmurs, and Joonmyun meets him halfway, letting Jongdae slide his tongue into his mouth. Jongdae tastes like sweet cola, and it’s all Joonmyun can do to not groan aloud. He feels Jongdae’s hands slip down the front of his shirt, and his dick stirs.

Jongdae is moving down his body, Joonmyun realizes belatedly, until he’s staring at him, eyes half-lidded with want, cheeks flushed a pleasant red.

“Joonmyun-hyung,” Jongdae says quietly, and _fuck_ Joonmyun has never heard a lewder thing in his life. “I want to suck you off.” His fingers are already lingering on his belt loops, and Joonmyun feels himself harden even more. Goddamnit.

Joonmyun exhales, unsteady and heady through his teeth, and thunks his head back against the stall. “Jongdae,” he begins uncertainly. His voice betrays him, shows just how much he fucking wants it, shakes with it. “Jongdae, I—"

“Do you want me to?” Jongdae’s eyes are insistent, liquid and hungry, and Joonmyun can’t, he fucking can’t. His body wants it and he wants it. “I won’t do it if you don’t want me to."

He’s caught. Joonmyun can feel himself weakening. It’s been so long since he’d been with another man this way. Boy, his brain reminds him, and Joonmyun dismisses the thought immediately. He keeps forgetting that Jongdae is only eighteen, he is his boss’ son, and yet—Jongdae looks so fucking perfect like this, on his knees and asking permission.

“Yes,” Joonmyun hisses, and then threads his fingers through Jongdae’s hair. It’s just as soft as it had been last night, like cornsilk. “Yes, _yes_."

Jongdae doesn’t wait a second longer, undoing Joonmyun’s belt buckle and zipper without another moment of hesitation, and then he has Joonmyun in his hand, and Joonmyun muffles his groan into the inside of his wrist.

“You’re—big—“ Jongdae sounds almost dazed, his thumb smearing over the tip of his cock. Joonmyun barely absorbs the compliment, biting back another moan as his hips shudder up just the slightest amount.

“Hurry up, Jongdae,” Joonmyun bites out, fighting to keep all the desperation out of his voice and failing miserably. He’s so fucking hard he can barely think straight, and it feels like Jongdae has his entire existence in his hand.

An odd expression flashes across Jongdae’s face before, _finally_ , he sticks his tongue out to drag it flat along the underside of his dick, tortuously slow, never breaking eye contact with Joonmyun the entire time.

A low “Fuck” escapes Joonmyun’s lips, but then Jongdae is closing his eyes and takes the head of Joonmyun’s cock into his hot, hot mouth.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Joonmyun hisses, louder this time, and almost clenches his fingers in Jongdae’s hair.

Jongdae had made it halfway down his cock, cheeks hollowing as he sucks, before pulling off. “You’re so hot when you swear,” he murmurs, voice low and intentful, and Joonmyun doesn’t even have it in him to feel flattered.

“We’re going to get caught,” Joonmyun whispers. “I—fuck, Jongdae—"

Jongdae had taken him into his mouth again, and Joonmyun feels the tip of his dick breach the back of his throat. He’s not going to last like this, not when it’s been ages since he’s last had anyone’s hands or mouth on him, and especially when Jongdae looks like that, lips stretched pink and shiny around his cock and eyes fluttered closed.

Jongdae makes a moaning noise around his dick, sucking _hard_ , and Joonmyun feels the telltale tension build in his abdomen, overwhelming, alarmingly quick, out of control.

“Jongdae—“ Joonmyun can’t help it anymore, and his fingers close around fistfuls of his hair, anything to ground him, to slow the rate at which he’s plummeting through his haze. “I’m—"

His orgasm wracks him before he can finish, and Jongdae just keeps on sucking him down as Joonmyun curls into himself, head hung low against his chest, shuddering. Jongdae makes a pleased noise as he pulls off and _swallows_ , a trickle of his come sliding out a corner of his mouth.

“Holy shit,” Joonmyun moans, completely winded, slumping against the wall. The back of his collar is damp with sweat, and he doesn’t want to think about how late he is for his conference call. Jongdae sits back on his haunches and preens, licking his lips and staring up at him with a smug expression on his face.

“That was good,” he says smugly, and Joonmyun lets out a laugh that borders on hysterical.

“ _You’re_ telling me that?!"

But—Joonmyun realizes, as his gaze trails down from his face—Jongdae’s school pants have a tent of their own, and a wave of arousal surges through him again.

“Do you—“ he tries, gesturing weakly with his hands and hoping Jongdae would get the point.

Jongdae shakes his head and pushes himself to his feet. “Maybe another time,” he answers with a teasing tilt to his lips. Instead, Jongdae presses up against him and grinds forward just the slightest bit, letting Joonmyun know just exactly how hard he is. “But you can think about me touching myself during your meeting."

“Jesus,” Joonmyun breathes out before he can stop himself, and Jongdae laughs.

“Go on, hyung. My dad will be wondering where you are. Don’t worry,” Jongdae adds with a lecherous grin. “You don’t look as thoroughly sexed up as you probably feel."

Joonmyun’s face flushes open as he opens his mouth to protest, but then—as if on cue—his phone rings, Jonghwan’s name flashing bright across the top.

“Hi sir,” Joonmyun answers breathlessly, tucking his shirt back into his pants with as much dignity as he could possibly muster. “Sorry, I was just in the restroom—yes, I’ll be right down—"

Jongdae catches his arm before Joonmyun can leave, standing up on his toes to kiss him on the mouth, smelling sweet and spicy and so, so good.

“See you later, hyung,” Jongdae says, eyes crinkling up at the corners.

When Joonmyun settles into his conference chair ten minutes later, he tries to not think about how that last smile had made his heart beat faster than having his dick down Jongdae’s throat.

Jonghwan clears his throat from his seat near the head of the table, and Joonmyun pushes all thoughts of his boss’ son out of his brain, forcing himself to focus. It was a two hour meeting—he was going to need it.

 ****  
  


 

 

And just like that, Jongdae begins to every second of Joonmyun’s free time. A quick kiss when no one is looking, making out in Joonmyun’s car during his breaks, anything— _everything_ , it seems—to not spend a single moment away from each other.

In the office is one thing, though. As much as he hates to admit it, there’s a kind of thrill, knowing that they could be caught. Jongdae certainly seems to get off on it, and—when Joonmyun’s got one hand down the front of his pants, Jongdae panting high and breathy into his ear—he can’t really he he’s complaining either.

But then, just as Joonmyun is getting ready for bed, there’s a knock on his door. He answers in his sweatpants, and does a double take.

“Jongdae?”

Jongdae grins at him, letting himself in. “Surprised?”

Joonmyun sticks his head out the door, looking around, before shutting the door behind him. “How did you get here? Does your dad know you’re here?”

“Nope.” Jongdae toes off his shoes. “I told him I was going to Baekhyun’s.”

Joonmyun rubs the back of his neck, sighing. “You know that things can get messy if anyone finds out you’re here.”

“We won’t get caught,” Jongdae says, and Joonmyun has no other choice but to believe him.

It’s nice, he thinks, to be able to kiss Jongdae properly. To be able to relish the feeling of Jongdae’s body pressed up against his without trying to keep it down. But—still. There are lines he does not want to cross.

It's on one of these evenings, when Joonmyun's work things are spread out over the coffee table and Jongdae has his head in his lap, that it finally comes up.

Jongdae squirms in his lap, rolling over to press his face into Joonmyun's stomach. "So when are you gonna finally fuck me, hyung?"

Joonmyun nearly drops the report he's holding. "I— _excuse_ me?"

"Come on, hyung." Jongdae turns to pout up at him. "I want it already."

"Absolutely not," Joonmyun mutters, going back to his report. "That's—that's a bit—"

"Pleeeease," Jongdae whines, wrapping his arms around Joonmyun's torso. It's uncomfortable because now he can't lean back, and Joonmyun snorts.

"What are you so eager for?"

Jongdae stops squirming around. "I just—want to know what it's like."

Joonmyun stares down at him in disbelief. “You mean you’ve never—?” And Jongdae shakes his head.

“I had a boyfriend a couple of years ago, but he never fucked me.” Jongdae tilts his head back against Joonmyun’s thigh. “Said I wasn’t ready.”

“What happened?” Joonmyun asks. He’s not really sure if he wants to know the answer.

Jongdae shrugs. “Broke up. He was graduating. I don’t know, it wasn’t really a big deal.”

Joonmyun makes a protesting noise in his throat. “But that’s—this is a big deal, it’s not just something you can do.”

“That’s why I want it to be you, hyung.” Jongdae smiles up at him. “You’d know what you’re doing, right?”

“I refuse,” Joonmyun says, but it’s a weak argument. “I don’t want to _taint_ you.”

Jongdae’s eyebrows furrow for just a  moment, but then he snickers. “Hyung, I think you’ve tainted me enough already.”

But Jongdae doesn’t bring it up again. Joonmyun doesn’t know if he’s relieved or not.

 ****  
  
  
  
  


 

He's not expecting the hands that drag down the front of his shirt or the lips pressing close to his ear.

"Take a break, hyung," Jongdae murmurs, breath gusting warm and damp over the back of his neck. Joonmyun closes his eyes for a second, fingers pausing at his keyboard, and that's when Jongdae goes for it.

Joonmyun doesn't get a chance to protest before Jongdae spins his chair around and edges his way in between his legs. His lips are insistent but gentle, hand coming up to cup one side of his face.

"Come on," he says, and then he's tugging Joonmyun to his feet in the direction of his bedroom.

"Jongdae—" he sighs, but doesn't try to stop him. His head is so full of numbers and figures by this point that he'd given anything for a distraction.

Which is how they end up like this—Jongdae underneath him, hands in his hair, Joonmyun over him, kissing messily. It's almost enough, Joonmyun thinks, and knows that Jongdae can tell too. Jongdae only takes Joonmyun's face in his hands, leaning up to kiss him.

"Stop thinking," he tells him. "Just—kiss me. Be with me, hyung."

Joonmyun follows his mouth down as Jongdae lies back. "I'm trying," he says, somewhat apologetically. "I just have a lot on my mind."

Jongdae's eyes are soft when he smiles up at him. "You work too hard, hyung."

Joonmyun lets out a quiet laugh. "I know."

There's not much talking after that, after Joonmyun leans back in to side his tongue into Jongdae's mouth, and even less when Jongdae hooks one of his legs over the small of his back.

It's reaching the time of afternoon when the shadows start to slant over the furniture in his room. He can see them now—the way the sunlight streaks across Jongdae's nose bridge, painting him peachy, golden, beautiful.

The whine Jongdae makes when Joonmyun presses up between his legs is unmistakable. They've been here so many times already, Joonmyun thinks, close and intimate and making out and flushed. And Jongdae can tell, is already following the script Joonmyun had laid out from the so many times before. He's expecting the limit, the point at which Joonmyun would push him away and stop the inevitable. Joonmyun kisses away slowly, watches Jongdae's eyes begin to register that they have—in fact—arrived at that moment. Joonmyun rests their foreheads together, trying to ignore the pull at his stomach or the brief flash of disappointment on Jongdae's face.

Joonmyun sighs, sitting back on his haunches, reaching down to pet Jongdae's hair back from his face.

"Going back to work?"

Jongdae's question hits him by surprise. "I—" Joonmyun doesn't know what to tell him, doesn't know how to say that the way Jongdae is sprawled out beneath him, soft and understanding and just so goddamned _beautiful_ , is making his heart clamour in his ribcage like a gong. Joonmyun wants simultaneously to keep him this way for as long as he can, and at the same time take it for himself.

And maybe—maybe he can give him this. For the past few weeks, he thought it'd be selfish to even try, that Jongdae's first time should be someone he truly cared about. Joonmyun wanted to—god, he wanted to—but was it his to take? Jongdae had made it clear to him for so many times now that he wanted it. And yet—Joonmyun thinks of Jongdae now, of how simple the answer is for him, and hesitates.

"If you're serious about this," Joonmyun says finally, and he can see the confusion in Jongdae's eyes. "If you really, really want this—" He swallows and looks directly into Jongdae's eyes, watching the realization take shape.

"Hyung," Jongdae whispers, hushed, disbelieving, reverent. "Hyung, are you—"

"You have to be a hundred percent sure," Joonmyun says, cutting him off. "That's the only way I'll be okay with this."

Jongdae is already sitting up, hands sliding up Joonmyun's arms. In his eyes there's a sort of wondrous urgency he's never seen before. " _Yes_ ," he breathes. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Promise me, Jongdae." Joonmyun is trying so hard to sound serious, but it's difficult when the smile on Jongdae's face is wide and brilliant, when he feels something similar spreading across his own. "You have to promise to tell me if you want me to stop."

The nod Jongdae gives him is almost careless before he clambers forward into Joonmyun's lap. "I promise, I promise."

Joonmyun kisses him then, lets Jongdae begin to push his shirt up. Underneath his hands, Jongdae is warm, soft, eager—heartbeat a steady nervous thrum.

"Slow down," Joonmyun says, catching him by his wrists, angling his chin to look at him.

"Sorry—" Jongdae's face is pink and dewy, eyes a bright glimmer underneath his eyelashes, voice breathy. "I just—I've been imagining this—"

Joonmyun's cock stirs in his pants. "Jesus," he mutters.

Jongdae pulls his own shirt over his head, sits up on his knees to wriggle out of his jeans. "Hurry up, hyung," he whines.

Joonmyun helps him at the last second, pulling his jeans off the rest of the way. The moment Jongdae's jeans are off, he's pulling Joonmyun back down, threading fingers into his hair and grinding his hips up against Joonmyun's already half-hard cock. Joonmyun muffles a groan into Jongdae's shoulder. "God, Jongdae."

"I want you," Jongdae's whispering, and with every breathy word from his mouth Joonmyun feels his resolve unravel just a little bit more. "I've always wanted you."

"I—" It's difficult getting the words out when Jongdae is kissing his way up Joonmyun's neck and rocking up into him so nicely, so deliciously. "I want it too—" Joonmyun's face flushes hot. "I want you too."

Jongdae lets out a pleased sound, falling back into the sheets. "Fuck me now," he breathes. "Please, I can't wait anymore."

Joonmyun bites his lip and sits up, already reaching for the drawer in his bedside table. "Okay, just—hold on—"

But Jongdae's fingers are already scrabbling at the button of Joonmyun's pants, pushing his hand inside to palm his cock, and Joonmyun clenches a tight handful of the sheets, fighting back another groan. He grabs the bottle of lube and a condom from his drawer before turning back to Jongdae.

"Now?" Joonmyun almost wants to laugh at the look on Jongdae's face, at the impatience showing through so clearly.

"You have to take these off first," Joonmyun says gently, thumbing the waistband of his underwear.

Jongdae nearly hits his head on the headboard trying to get them off, and Joonmyun is very sure he doesn't imagine the bright pink flush across this cheeks. He pops the cap on the lube, spreading a generous amount on his fingers.

"Tell me when you're ready."

"I'm ready," Jongdae says a little too quickly, spreading his legs, and Joonmyun bites his lip again.

"You sure?" he asks, using his other hand to gently pet down the inside of his thighs. "It's going to hurt a little bit."

Jongdae shakes his head, bangs falling into his face. "I've—" His hips pitch forward a little bit into Joonmyun's hand. "I've done it before. To myself."

"Oh," Joonmyun says dumbly. His head spins, trying not to think about Jongdae fingering himself open and failing miserably. "I—okay. Just—tell me if it's too much."

"Okay," Jongdae whines impatiently. "Just hurry up—"

His words get cut off by Joonmyun pressing a finger in the smallest bit, trailing off into a gasp.

"Does it hurt?" Joonmyun asks immediately, about to pull his hand back. Jongdae grabs his wrist.

"Don't." His fingers tighten over his wrist. "Don't stop."

Joonmyun exhales through his teeth. "I don't want to hurt you," he says, and Jongdae lets out a shaky laugh.

"You're not going to hurt me," Jongdae says quietly, and that's all it takes for Joonmyun to swallow and push back in.

When Jongdae doesn't show any signs of discomfort, Joonmyun edges in another finger. Jongdae's breaths are coming quick and shallow now, hips rolling up to meet the slow in and out of Joonmyun's fingers.

"When it was just you," Joonmyun begins, then hesitates. "When—when you did this, how many fingers did you try?"

Jongdae makes a tiny noise. "Just two."

Joonmyun nods. "I'm going to try three, okay?"

"Kay," Jongdae bites out, but he can't hide the momentary apprehension that flashes across his face.

Joonmyun presses the tip of his ring finger against his entrance and feels Jongdae tense up. "Relax," he tries to soothe, but he feels like a hypocrite when his own heart is running off without him. "It'll hurt if you don't relax."

"I'm trying," Jongdae says, voice barely above a whisper. "Go on—"

The moment Joonmyun feels the tip of his finger go in, Jongdae visibly winces and Joonmyun's heart skips several beats.

"Hey," he says quietly, stroking the inside of his thighs. "Jongdae, look at me."

Breathing heavily now, Jongdae does. This time, the discomfort in his eyes is unmistakable, and Joonmyun ducks down to press a hurried kiss against the downturn of his mouth. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Jongdae answers in a tight voice, and even the deep breath he takes doesn't keep the tremor out of his voice. "It's just—a lot—"

Joonmyun dusts another kiss across his nose and curls his fingers up the slightest bit. "Keep looking at me, okay?"

Jongdae bites his lip and nods, the pink spreading further down the front of his chest and across his shoulders. Joonmyun thrusts his fingers in more insistently, watching the tension bleed out of Jongdae's face little by little. Soon, Joonmyun's fingers slide in and out easily, and Jongdae is panting, tiny little whines that go straight to his dick.

"Hyung—" Jongdae is moaning, canting down to meet Joonmyun's hand. His fingers come up to curl around Joonmyun's bicep, fingernails digging sharply into his skin. "Hyung, please—"

The throb in Joonmyun's chest is even stronger than the ache between his legs by now, and as Joonmyun pulls his fingers out and pushes his pants off the rest of the way, he can't quite wrap his mind around the way Jongdae is lying spread out underneath him—thighs slick with lube and cock leaking glossy precome all over his stomach. He watches the way Jongdae's eyes train on him as he snaps the condom on, jacking himself to full hardness, the way his eyes never leave his face.

"Are you sure about this?" Joonmyun asks him one more time, lining himself up.

Jongdae nods clumsily, almost drunkenly, eyes half lidded and hazy. "Yes."

He was expecting it, but the first push in is so tight Joonmyun nearly stops. Even with three fingers, Jongdae is still so tight and hot.

"Fuck." Joonmyun presses in further and feels Jongdae's grip tighten around his arm. "Fuck, Jongdae."

Jongdae hadn't made any sound, just let his head drop back with his eyes screwed shut—from pain or pleasure, Joonmyun can't tell. It's only when Joonmyun makes it all the way in does Jongdae let out a slow, broken gasp.

"Hyung," he whines, tight and high and pressed to the back of his throat, and Joonmyun exhales, thrusting in.

The cry that rips from Jongdae's throat is almost enough to throw Joonmyun off guard, about to stop and pull out, but then Jongdae locks his ankles behind his back, pulling him in deep, deep, impossibly deeper, and Joonmyun hisses. His hips cant forward automatically, arms taut from holding up his weight over Jongdae's body, now completely flushed with a pretty dark red. Joonmyun feels his arms loop around his neck, Jongdae's muffled cries an exquisite litany right next to his ear.

"Jongdae," he murmurs, fucking in at a slightly different angle. The wail Jongdae makes then is the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, every roll of his hips dragging more and more moans from his lips. Joonmyun pushes himself up to look down at Jongdae, at his clavicles shimmering with sweat, lips parted, eyes glassy. He is so inescapably beautiful, so full of light and yearning and want, that it hurts to even look at him. Joonmyun's breath escapes him in heavy rushes, and he slides a hand under one of Jongdae's thighs to push his leg up back towards his chest, stretching him open further, fucking in deeper. Jongdae whimpers loudly, clutches him tighter, closer. Everything is hot and wet and slick and Joonmyun is lost, lost in Jongdae, in the fact that he is taking Jongdae for himself, the fact that Jongdae is letting him.

He pulls Jongdae's other leg up to his chest and fucks into him like that, deep and steady, watching the pleasure blossom in his face. "Look at me," Joonmyun gets out between thrusts, and Jongdae—whose eyes had almost slid shut—locks eyes with him. A deep, electric thrum begins to stir in his gut as his hips snap forward relentlessly, and the look of wondrous awe in Jongdae's eyes only intensifies with every backwards pitch of his head.

"H-hyung," is the only word Joonmyun can make out, Jongdae's words blurring together into incoherent sobs. "Hyung—"

He's close. Joonmyun would have felt embarrassed if it hadn't been so long since he last had sex, if it were anyone else he was doing this with. But with Jongdae—with whom everything feels so natural and right and raw—Joonmyun just lets himself fuck into Jongdae faster. Jongdae is close too, if the increasing pitch of his cries and arching of his back are anything to go by. It only takes a few more hard thrusts for Jongdae to tense up all over, back lifting completely off the mattress as he shudders with a wordless cry, releasing white all over his stomach. Jongdae is clenching down all around him, and it's too much—Joonmyun fucks in one last time and grinds forward desperately, coming long and hard into his condom.

Jongdae's hands are around his neck now, fingers trailing down his spine, down the slick planes of his back. "Wow," Joonmyun hears him sigh, voice rough and scratchy from his moans, and can't hold back the chuckle he stifles into Jongdae's shoulder.

Instead, he props himself up. "Are you okay?"

Jongdae grins up at him sleepily. "I'm sleepy."

Joonmyun feels a fond, pleased smile make its way across his face. "But you feel alright?"

"Never felt better," Jongdae mumbles, nosing up into the side of his neck. "I just want to cuddle."

"Not like this," Joonmyun laughs, pushing him down gently. With a soft, slick sound, he pulls out and tosses his condom before curling around him. “Okay?”

“Mmm.”

It doesn’t take long for Jongdae to fall asleep like that, soft and plaint in his arms, breath even and steady. Joonmyun tucks his nose into the hair at the nape of his neck and follows him into sleep.

 

 

 

 

Looking back at it, Joonmyun’s almost not surprised when it happens. With Jonghwan giving his team extra hours and assignments on top of his normal workload and Jongdae constantly sneaking out at night to visit him, the lack of sleep catches up with him before he can even realize it.

It happens around the middle of December. One second, he’s punching numbers on his computer, Jongdae playing his usual noisy phone games in the chair next to him, and the next all Joonmyun can remember is feeling light headed and then—black,

Joonmyun wakes up to two concerned faces peering down at him. It takes him a couple of seconds to realize that he's in a hospital bed, suit jacket gone and top buttons undone. There's an IV drip in his right arm, and Jongdae is standing behind his father looking like he's about to cry.

"How do you feel, Joonmyun-ssi?" Jonghwan asks him, brow furrowing.

Joonmyun tries to sit up and feels his head spin. "What happened?"

"You fainted." It's Jongdae who speaks this time, sounding faintly anxious. "I got really scared."

"I'm sorry," Joonmyun says immediately. "I should have been taking better care of my health."

Jonghwan makes a tsk-ing noise and waves his hand dismissively. "Don't apologize. I've been working you too hard."

Silently, Joonmyun agrees, but he doesn't dare voice it aloud.

"Anyway," Jonghwan is saying. "I'm thinking you should probably take a reprieve. A week ought to do it."

"A week?" Joonmyun repeats dumbly. "I just overworked myself. It's nothing I need a week for."

"You just fell over," Jongdae says quietly. Even though he's half-hiding behind his father, Joonmyun can see the genuine concern in his eyes, tinged with something like fear. "You're tired, hyung. Take the week off."

Jonghwan smiles indulgent. "My son is troublesome a lot of the times, but he knows what he's talking about."

Joonmyun sighs and lies back on the hospital pillows. "Let me at least finish up what I was doing today."

Jongdae makes a weird noise, and Jonghwan laughs. "Jongdae gathered your things up. Just push all your deadlines back a week. Consider it an early holiday gift."

And at this point, Joonmyun knows that it's pointless to even try to argue when there's clearly nothing that he says or does will change his boss' mind.

He slumps down. "Thank you, sir."

Jonghwan nods approvingly. "I'll let you rest. Come on, Jongdae."

Joonmyun sees Jongdae giving him one long last look before following after his father. The moment they're both gone, he drags his hands over his face in frustration.

Maybe Jonghwan was right. Maybe he really had been working too much. Joonmyun takes a look at the clock beside the bed—8:09 PM. He figures he could at least spend the night and leave in the morning. And then..... Joonmyun had no idea what he'd do after that. Jonghwan had told him to rest, but Joonmyun would probably end up doing work anyway. The habit was ingrained in him like a parasite.

And so, when he’s finally discharged the next day, that’s exactly what Joonmyun does. Joonmyun pulls some of the documents from the company cloud drive to finish, curled up on his couch in a blanket.

He’s not surprised either when Jongdae comes knocking around 4PM. Joonmyun wonders who’d picked him up from school as he lets him in, Jongdae pushing a grocery bag at him.

“My dad told me to give these to you,” he says. “Also, he told me to tell you that he can see you working, and that I can change your cloud drive password if you rest.”

“Okay, I promise.”

Jongdae gives him a brilliant smile over his shoulders, busying himself with the dirty dishes that Joonmyun had neglected.

Something heavy settles into his chest as he watches Jongdae, thinking about what he’d said earlier, about Jonghwan knowing that Jongdae is here in his house. Discomfort blooms throughout his body.

Jongdae starts to sing to himself, and Joonmyun knows, with a deadening finality, just what he has to do.

 ****  
  
  


 

Jongdae skips in happily, holding a bag of what looks like Chinese takeout. Joonmyun hesitates, still holding the door open, watching Jongdae make himself comfortable at his table. It hurts to look at him, at how Jongdae blends in so perfectly with everything in Joonmyun's life. How he can show up with ratty old sweatpants and breakouts along his hairline and still be the most beautiful thing Joonmyun has ever seen. This is the fifth time this week that Jongdae had made his house call, even though Joonmyun had clearly gotten well enough to go back to work, because Jonghwan was still insisting that Joonmyun stay home.

Jongdae is unpacking the contents of the plastic bag, catches Joonmyun's eye. "What are you doing? The food will get cold."

The gong in Joonmyun's chest reverberates a deep, dull thud in his bones. Something hot and itchy pricks at the backs of his eyes, and Joonmyun takes a steadying breath before walking over to the kitchen where Jongdae had sat, waiting for him.

"Jongdae," Joonmyun says quietly. Jongdae looks up at him happily, wooden chopsticks in hand, about to open a box of food, and Joonmyun's heart clenches. "We—I need to talk to you."

Joonmyun can tell his words hadn't registered immediately from the way Jongdae stops what he's doing, looking up at him with questions in his eyes. Joonmyun sits down in front of him, takes his hands from across the table.

"Jongdae," he says again, and that's when it parses. Jongdae's mouth turns down and he pulls his hands away.

"Hyung," Jongdae says quietly, like he knows what's coming, like he knows that Joonmyun is about to ruin his life. The guilt runs hot through his veins like oil, burns him up from the inside. Joonmyun chews on his lip.

"We need to talk."

Jongdae is glaring at him, the corners of his eyes already going shiny.

"Jongdae," Joonmyun starts. His voice feels thick and heavy in his throat. "Listen—"

"Don't do this," Jongdae hisses, and it comes out vindictive, bitter. "I know what you're going to say."

The venom in his voice is like a slap to the face. Joonmyun reaches out for Jongdae only for him to shy away.

"Don't you dare tell me I'm too young. Don't you fucking _dare_ , hyung."

"But it's true, Jongdae, you're only eighteen, you're not even done with high school yet—"

"You didn't have a problem with it before, so what changed?"

"Don't you realize that we're at completely different stages of our lives? There are too many complications here, Jongdae."

"My mom is ten years younger than my dad," Jongdae argues. "They make it work. Why can't we?"

"Yes," Joonmyun admits. "But that's—" Different, he almost says, which is such bullshit, really, but as much as it pains him to acknowledge, there's no denying that Korea is still very much conservative. Maybe for Jongdae's parents it's okay, because that's the only strike they've got going against them. But for them, with Jongdae—

"There's just too much at stake," Joonmyun says, and this isn't a lie. With Jongdae's father as Joonmyun's boss, there's already too much risk. They've been toeing a fine line ever since Jongdae kissed him in Joonmyun's car so many weeks ago. Perhaps Joonmyun had been ignoring it, but now it hits him in full force, the foolishness with which he handled their relationship, the irresponsibility.

Jongdae's eyes are glassy, and Joonmyun forces himself to keep looking at him. "You deserve more, Jongdae. A relationship that you can show off. Someone you can tell your parents about."

"But I don't care what other people think," Jongdae whispers, and the broken sincerity in his voice is enough to make Joonmyun's heart skip several beats in his ribcage.

"Don't make a mistake, Jongdae. Don't do something you'll regret for the rest of your life."

It's then that Jongdae looks up directly into his eyes, and what Joonmyun sees is not just a bedraggled high schooler, but someone mature far beyond his years. "But you're not a mistake, hyung," Jongdae says finally, and Joonmyun tears his eyes away. "I love you."

The quiet that follows seems several decibels louder than usual, and Joonmyun doesn't have to look at Jongdae to know that he's crying silently. Instead, he stares at the floor, listening to the thud of blood in his eyes, deafening him.

"I'll drive you home," Joonmyun says finally, not daring to meet Jongdae's eyes.

"No need," Jongdae says immediately, and Joonmyun winces at his tone. Cold, closed off. "I'll take a cab."

He's on his feet before Joonmyun can protest otherwise, and before Joonmyun can stop him Jongdae is pulling on his shoes and out the door. The door slams shut, and Joonmyun is left there sitting at his kitchen table, staring open-mouthed after Jongdae.

Several seconds pass like this, every cell in Joonmyun's body turning to ice. Around him, Joonmyun can feel the void that Jongdae had left in sharp detail. The warmth and the laughter had left with him. Now, the only thing that's left of Jongdae is the box of Chinese food on Joonmyun's table—uneaten, abandoned, slowly growing cold.

 ****  
  
  


 

“This is unusual, Joonmyun-ssi,” Jonghwan says, looking at him with a curious raise of his eyebrow. “What did you want to tell me?”

Joonmyun looks down at his feet. “Jongdae has decided that business isn’t really for him.”

Jonghwan makes a surprised sound. “But he seemed to quite enjoy it?

“Yes,” Joonmyun nods and licks his lips. “Have you ever considered putting him in choir? He’s got the voice for it.”

Jonghwan frowns. “He wanted to join last year, but I was worried it would eat too much into his studies.”

Joonmyun shakes his head. “Let him join. You’ll see.”

The look Jonghwan gives him then is long and calculating, before, finally, he sighs. “Okay, Joonmyun-ssi. I trust you.”

Joonmyun nods before excusing himself. His office is strangely quiet without the combination of Jongdae’s phone games and own little sound effects there to mitigate the silence.

Jongdae does not come in at all that month.

 ****  
  
  
  


 

During the last week of February, Jonghwan calls him into his office.

Joonmyun thinks that his boss looks about as tired as feels. Everyone is exhausted—Jonghwan, Joonmyun, Changmin, Kibum—everyone in the project team is lacking sleep in some way or another, but they're getting close to being finished. They all can feel it.

Even this, though, hasn't prepared him for the next thing out of Jonghwan's mouth.

"I'd like you to go to Los Angeles," Jonghwan says evenly. He laces his fingers together and peers at Joonmyun over the tops of his knuckles.

"Los Angeles," Joonmyun repeats, unsure if he'd heard correctly. "That's—that's really—"

"I know it's a lot to ask," Jonghwan admits, somewhat apologetically. "You can have some time to think about it. And the entire expense is covered, if it helps."

Suddenly, Joonmyun feels bad. The executive board hasn't exactly been making this easy for them. At every step of the process, it's seemed like they were growing even more determined to put a stop to the LA branch project for good. Joonmyun can't help but feel a tremendous amount of respect for his superior, knowing all the challenges they've had to put up with.

"When?" is all he manages to get out, and clears his throat. "Sorry, I meant how soon would I leave?"

Jonghwan hums, fingers tapping lightly against the lenses of his eyeglasses. "In about two weeks. You'd be going with Kibum."

Joonmyun raises an eyebrow. "Changmin-ssi's assistant?" Despite being on the same project team, Joonmyun thinks that he's maybe interacted with Kibum a total of three times. From his limited experience, Kim Kibum seemed to be the type of person who would never willingly socialize with Joonmyun. At least, Joonmyun thinks dryly, not in the clothes he wears.

Jonghwan quirks a smile. "He's fluent in English, don't you know? I don't have the luxury of sending Changmin himself because he's doing so many things for me here, but Kibum is more of an administrative assistant than anything else. It'd be better if you went with him to do the business dealings."

"Business dealings?"

"What we're focused on now is finding an office location," Jonghwan explains patiently. "Changmin's put together a list of properties and you'd be meeting the real estate agent to look them over. You'll probably also have to meet with one of our investors."

Office locations, real estate agents, investors? The mere idea of a trip like this is usually enough to make Joonmyun turn on his heel and back out. For as long as he's worked on the project, he still hasn't quite gotten over the anxiety that perhaps he wasn't good enough to be on Jonghwan's team.

Joonmyun gives him a stiff smile. "I'll definitely give it some thought."

"Good," Jonghwan nods. "Try to let me know soon. We'll need to book your plane tickets and lodging."

Joonmyun bows to him. "Understood."

His boss gives him a nod, and Joonmyun knows he's dismissed.

Los Angeles, he thinks, once he's back at his own desk. As much as Joonmyun tries to get away from the city, it seemed more and more inevitable that he was going have to face the metropolis at one point in his life. He's still in mild disbelief that Jonghwan would trust him with such a huge task like this. What if he fucked up? What if he picked the wrong location? Gave the investor a bad impression? Joonmyun shakes his head, eyes catching on one of the guest chairs next to the wall, the one where Jongdae would usually sit. He sighs.

Joonmyun turns back to his computer and opens a new browser window. He clicks over to Daum image and searches "Koreatown, Los Angeles," scrolling through the first few pages. After a couple of minutes of searching, Joonmyun closes the window, rubbing at his eyes.

Finally, he picks up his phone and sifts through his Kakao contacts. Finally, he finds the one he's looking for. The profile he taps on shows a young man with a broad smile, holding a shaggy-haired dog. Joonmyun smiles a little bit, then types his message.

_Jonginnie, it's Joonmyunnie-hyung. Are you still in LA?_

****  
  
  


 

Exactly one week later, Joonmyun visits Jonghwan in his office again.

His boss looks up expectantly. "Well?"

Joonmyun squares his shoulders. "I'm going to go." He sounds a lot more sure of himself than he feels, but Joonmyun is tired. He's tired of coming into the office every day only to be reminded more and more of Jongdae. He's tired of not getting messages from him on his phone, of half-expecting Jongdae to walk in through his door at any second. It's exhausting and depressing, and Joonmyun thinks that maybe what he needs is a couple of weeks away from it all.

Maybe he'll find that in Los Angeles. Maybe he'll come back with answers.

Jonghwan smiles broadly. "Excellent."

 ****  
  
  


 

So, at the beginning of March, Joonmyun travels halfway across the world.

Jongin had told him to bring light outerwear, but Joonmyun finds himself shucking his cardigan almost immediately landing at LAX.

Kibum walks briskly next to him, cappuccino in hand, looking surprisingly like he belonged there. Going through customs had been a nightmare—Joonmyun had forgotten about the Korean won to US dollar conversion and accidentally wrote that he had over ten thousand US dollars on the declarations sheet. The immigrations officers had taken him to a separate room for questioning, and he had floundered royally without Kibum there to translate for him. In the end, Joonmyun had managed to clear up the situation to the slightly cross immigrations personnel, but Kibum wouldn't stop laughing.

Another traveler bumps into Joonmyun by accident, and he drops his passport.

"S-sorry," he stammers in English before stumbling to pick it up. Kibum rolls his eyes.

"You're fucking hopeless, Joonmyun-ssi."

Joonmyun flushes, stuffing his passport into his carry-on and pushing the luggage cart in front of him.

It takes him a few minutes to finally find Jongin at the arrival area. His younger cousin had grown several centimeters since Joonmyun last saw him, which in all honestly had probably been about three years ago. Joonmyun feels a fond smile tugging at his mouth as he takes him in, all long lanky limbs and sleepy looking eyes. He's somewhat amused to find that Jongin's lips are still as flakey and cracking as ever—a sure sign that he hadn't stopped biting his lips.

Joonmyun can tell Jongin doesn't recognize him either, blinking several times before breaking out into a wide, boyish grin.

"Hyung!" Jongin may look skinny, but the hug he gives him is enough to momentarily cut off his circulation. "How was your flight?"

"Long," Joonmyun says honestly. "I don't sleep well on planes."

Kibum lets out a scoff, which Joonmyun takes as his cue to do the introductions. "Kibum-ssi, this is my younger cousin Jongin. Jonginnie, Kibum-ssi."

"Nice to meet you," Jongin says automatically, extending his hand for a shake. Kibum's eyes slant over Jongin's ragged sweatpants and sleep ruffled hair, lip curling. Joonmyun fights back a grin.

They pile their suitcases into the tiny trunk of Jongin's sedan. Joonmyun blinks around in the pale, graying light of downtown Los Angeles from the passenger's seat. "I don't if this was dumb of me to think, but I think I expected more—" Joonmyun gestures up at the overcast sky. "—blue?"

Jongin snorts, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. "You came on the, like, _one_ day of the week that it's super overcast. It should clear up by tomorrow."

Joonmyun nods. They reach the hotel about ten minutes later, and Jongin is nice enough to help them bring their suitcases to their room. Joonmyun checks his phone as soon as they're settled. "We're supposed to meet the investor at four. Can you help us get to the Galleria?"

"We still have like five hours," Kibum complains, flopping down on one of the twin beds. "I'd rather get a massage at the spa"

Jongin laughs at the bewildered look on Joonmyun's face. "Wanna come over, hyung? I can drive you back later."

Joonmyun turns to Kibum. "Will you be okay with that?"

Kibum waves his hand dismissively. "I'm not the one who can't speak English. Just go."

Joonmyun can't really argue with that.

 ****  
  
  


 

Jongin's apartment is in a five story walk-up, and he so just happens to live on the fourth floor. After three flights of stairs, Joonmyun is already sweating through his dress collar.

"You couldn't have picked somewhere with an elevator?"

"This was one of the only places that would allow pets," Jongin says defensively.

Joonmyun is about to ask just exactly _what_ he means by that, when Jongin unlocks his door and what seems like a stampede of small, furry animals come leaping out of nowhere.

The stampede is actually three equally excited dogs, all of them jumping up at Jongin's legs and yipping delightedly. Joonmyun clutches his chest. He really did not do well with animals.

Jongin laughs, kneeling down to let them lick at his face. " _Down_ , Jjangah—come in, hyung—"

Feeling slightly dazed, Joonmyun follows his cousin through the door. Jongin's studio is small but comfortable. His half-made futon lies in the corner of the room, laptop and second monitor propped up next to it on a folding table. There are no chairs, but rather a multitude of cushions spread out across the floor.

"Cozy," he comments, and Jongin flushes.

"It was supposed to be a temporary thing, but I just—" Jongin scratches the back of his neck. He'd sunk down onto one of the cushions, and Joonmyun joins him on the floor, stretching out his legs. "I got used to it. Plus, the kids like it here." Jongin smiles fondly at the brown dog in his lap and scratches its ears. "Don't you?"

Joonmyun lifts his hand tentatively to pet the white, fluffier dog that was attempting to nose its way into his lap. "What do you do when you're not at the studio, Jonginnie?"

"Oh, you know." Jongin flops backwards onto the floor, spread-eagled. "I just hang out at home. Watch TV, game. Stuff."

"You don't have a girlfriend or anything?" Joonmyun asks him teasingly, and is mildly surprised at the dark blush that immediately colors Jongin's face. "Oh," he says, reaching over to pinch his side. "Is that a yes?"

"Stooop," Jongin whines, rolling over on his stomach and away from Joonmyun's hands. "No, I don't. At least not yet."

Joonmyun lets out a short laugh. "Yet? Someone you have in mind?"

"Maybe," Jongin mumbles, voice muffled where he'd buried his face in his arms. Joonmyun had honestly forgotten he could be like this—shy, cute, careful. It reminds him more of the quiet kid Joonmyun had grown up with in Korea.

"Hwaiting, Jonginnie," Joonmyun tells him sympathetically, patting his butt.

"What about you, hyung?" Jongin rolls back over to stare at him semi-accusingly. "Are _you_ seeing anyone?"

Joonmyun clears his throat and looks away pointedly, pushing down all thoughts of Jongdae. "No. No, I'm not."

He's aware of Jongin doing his intense stare thing, the kind of look that had always made Joonmyun feel like Jongin was X-raying his thoughts.

"Have you gotten in contact with Kyungsoo-hyung?"

The question startles him. Joonmyun looks at him, completely caught off guard. "What about Kyungsoo?"

"Well." Jongin sits upright, staring down at his hands. "You know—he's _here_."

When Joonmyun doesn't answer, Jongin lets out a slow breath. "I'm guessing that's a no."

Joonmyun shakes his head. "I didn't know you still talked to him."

"Well—" Jongin's voice sounds tighter, now. A little less chirp. "You haven't exactly kept in touch with me either."

Joonmyun's mouth feels like cotton. He'd been stupid to not anticipate this. Even while they'd still been together, Kyungsoo had always treated Jongin like a younger brother, who in turned had come to see Joonmyun's ex-boyfriend like a mentor. Joonmyun hadn't even given it a thought, but now the more he thinks about it the more it makes perfect sense. Of course Jongin and Kyungsoo would be in touch. They live in the same city, for christ's sake. Joonmyun doesn't know if he's angry at himself or a little bit relieved.

"Is he—" Somehow, it's taking all of Joonmyun's effort to keep his voice steady. "Is he doing okay?"

Jongin cocks his head at him, like he understood something Joonmyun didn't. "You wanna ask him yourself?"

Joonmyun almost gives himself whiplash turning his head to look at him. "What? You mean like, meet him?"

Jongin shrugs. "Why not? It's been a long time. You both are okay with each other now, right?"

Joonmyun is beginning to wonder if he was the only one making a big deal out of seemingly tiny issues. Everyone else seemed to view everything so simply, like the answers were spelled out in front of them.

"Yeah," he says finally. "Yeah, I guess. Do you—do you think he'd want to see me?"

"I don't know," Jongin admits. He reaches over to smooth a palm over Joonmyun's shoulders, much like the way Joonmyun used to do to him when they were both kids together, and Jongin had scraped his knee while trying to play soccer. "But you won't know until you try."

Jongin has grown so very much, Joonmyun realizes with a touch of nostalgia. He suddenly misses the shy, whiny ten year old who wouldn't following him around, but Joonmyun likes Jongin like this. Comfortable, mature, grown into his skin. He lets out a sigh.

"Okay. I want to meet him," Joonmyun decides, more to himself than anyone else, but Jongin smiles.

"First, though," he says, getting to his feet and stretching. "You have a fancy schmancy investor to meet."

 ****  
  


 

 

The meeting with Boa goes surprisingly smooth. For one, she's Korean, which Joonmyun had not expected but was undeniably grateful for. Kibum had mostly played sudoku on his phone during the entire conversation, but Joonmyun supposes that that was to be expected. After all, it was like Jonghwan had said—Kibum was pretty much just an assistant. He didn't really know too many details of the enterprise.

Boa was a sharp woman, definitely knew what she's talking about it. She'd laid out all the financial details, made a couple of phone calls, then showed Joonmyun a five year investment plan from the company she was representing. It was all Joonmyun could do to keep up, fervently thankful for the primer Jonghwan had given him prior to leaving.

They wrap up the settlements with a quick dinner, before grabbing a taxi back to their hotel. Joonmyun lies back on his bed later that night, mulling over Jongin's words in his head. With the promise of a meeting with Kyungsoo, suddenly this entire trip to Los Angeles had changed its meaning. Tomorrow, they had a full day of looking at properties with the real estate agent, a couple of days off to discuss the options, then yet another day of property walk-throughs.

Jongin had texted him earlier that evening, saying Kyungsoo was willing to meet him a cafe in Koreatown called Iota that weekend. _i can drive you there, don't wrry_ , he'd assured him. Joonmyun is resoundly glad to have a cousin like Jongin.

On the next bed over, Kibum is snoring, no trace of jet lag whatsoever. Joonmyun sighs, rolls over under his blankets. The time is 2:49 AM. The weekend couldn't come quickly enough.

 

 

 

 

Iota is a fashionable little cafe and brewery with windows that span the entire expanse of the store front. Jongin drops him off about half an hour early, apologizing that he had to be at the studio, so Joonmyun orders a cappuccino while he waits. The days leading up to today had been, frankly, exhausting. Joonmyun didn't have the slightest idea about real estate, only what Jonghwan had told him. Luckily, Tiffany had been more than accommodating, chattering away happily as they'd walked round and round office after office. Joonmyun doesn't even remember how many office spaces they've seen anymore, all of them blurring together in his mind.

He's probably waiting for a total of twenty minutes when the door to the cafe opens again, and that's when Joonmyun sees him. And just like that, all of the things Joonmyun had rehearsed, the things he'd wanted to say, the questions he wanted answers to—gone, totally gone in an instant. It doesn't take long for Kyungsoo to spot him, and he makes his way towards his table, the slight drag of his feet against the ground bitterly familiar.

Kyungsoo sits down in the chair across from him. Joonmyun's hands shake around his coffee cup as he takes him in, the features that were so familiar to him, the subtle changes that remind Joonmyun that Kyungsoo is an entirely different person now.

Kyungsoo's expression is infuriatingly neutral. "Hello Joonmyun."

Joonmyun swallows. "How are you?"

Kyungsoo shrugs, picking up his menu. "Decent, I guess."

This catches Joonmyun by surprise. He'd been hoping for a different answer, something along of the lines of _great, much better, happy_ —any sign that Kyungsoo's move to Los Angeles wasn't meaningless after all.

"What about your acting?" Joonmyun manages to say. It's hard to look at Kyungsoo. He's aged since the last time Joonmyun had seen him, gotten more weathered, more jaded. "Is it... going well?"

"I was in a commercial," Kyungsoo says. He's not looking at him anymore, instead making eye contact with a waiter over Joonmyun's shoulder. "And I did a short film."

"Oh," Joonmyun says, disappointment sinking into his stomach. "That's—"

"It's shitty, honestly." Kyungsoo turns back to him, raising an eyebrow. "But I expected it."

Joonmyun doesn't know what to say. He had wanted to meet Kyungsoo in hopes that—after all this time—maybe Kyungsoo had finally gotten what he wanted. Joonmyun had wanted closure, but this—Kyungsoo's determined complacency—was not it.

"Why are you here?" Kyungsoo is asking him, and Joonmyun lets out a nervous laugh.

"Me? I'm here for work."

Kyungsoo gives him a look, and Joonmyun stammers to explain.

"My boss is opening a Los Angeles office, so I just—I guess he wanted me to be the one to check out the location. I don't really know what I'm doing, but it's a paid trip so I figured—why not, you know?"

He's rambling, Joonmyun is sure of it, but it doesn't stop the words from rolling off his tongue, jumpy and disconnected. He doesn't know why he's so nervous, sitting here with his ex-boyfriend of over five years, or why Kyungsoo is acting so maddeningly blase about it, as if he'd been expecting him.

Kyungsoo sighs heavily, setting the menu down. "That's not what I'm asking, Joonmyun."

Joonmyun blinks at him. "What do you mean?"

Kyungsoo leans back in his chair, looking at him coolly. "The Kim Joonmyun I knew would have never taken a trip like this, even for a job. You're avoiding something."

Sweat breaks out in the crevices of Joonmyun's body. He'd forgotten that Kyungsoo could be like this. Brusque, straight foward. There was no beating around the bush with Kyungsoo.

"I'm not," Joonmyun begins, tongue thick in his mouth, but Kyungsoo lets out another sigh.

"Don't bullshit me, Joonmyun," he says. Kyungsoo's words hit him like a knife between the ribs. "I know you. You're always running away from something. What is it this time?"

Joonmyun stares back dumbly. "I—"

Kyungsoo's coffee finally comes, but he leaves it on the table, still steaming. Joonmyun is at a loss for words. Kyungsoo isn't angry. It's not that at all. He's merely doing what he'd been doing for so many years of their lives together—reading Joonmyun perfectly. It was a talent that both terrified and relieved him—that, after all this time, Kyungsoo could still figure out exactly what he was thinking.

"I can always tell when you're trying to get away from responsibility," Kyungsoo continues, stirring his latte calmly. "Quite frankly, it's pissing me off."

The words burn a hot brand into his skin. Kyungsoo is right, of course, because when had Kyungsoo ever been wrong about anything? _That company is working you to the bone_ , he'd told him when Joonmyun had taken the first position he could out of college, when Joonmyun was desperate for money and waved his suspicion off, promising it would get better. _You don't love me_ ,  Kyungsoo had accused him, the night before leaving entirely. _Not the way I love you_.

And he'd been right about everything, naturally. Joonmyun's old company had nearly gotten away with corporate slavery had he not realized when already up to his neck with their bullshit. And maybe Kyungsoo had realized a long time before he did that Joonmyun didn't quite reciprocate his feelings. They'd both tried, they really did, to make it work. If there was one thing that Joonmyun shared with Kyungsoo, it was his tenacious resolve. Neither of them had quite wanted to admit that maybe—just maybe—time wouldn't fix the problem.

Even now, Kyungsoo is still right. He's running away—from commitment, maybe. From the chance to start something better. From Jongdae.

Joonmyun swallows around the lump in his throat, looking up into Kyungsoo's face. "I'm sorry."

"Don't tell _me_ you're sorry," Kyungsoo says, his steely eyes never leaving Joonmyun's. "Apologize to whoever you're stringing along."

"I don't know what to do," Joonmyun admits, breaking his gaze to stare down into his coffee. "I fucked up."

There's a clink of porcelain against wood as Kyungsoo sets his mug down. "What's so hard about it, Joonmyun? Do you like them? Do you want to be with them?"

"Yes," Joonmyun whispers. "Yes, I do."

"Then _be with them_ ," Kyungsoo tells him without the faintest trace of bitterness. For this, Joonmyun is extremely grateful. Perhaps, maybe, he could still salvage some sort of friendship.

Kyungsoo makes a weird snort, one that Joonmyun's heard enough times to know that he's exasperated. "I swear to god, Joonmyun. It's like you're determined to make yourself depressed."

"I do not," Joonmyun starts to argue, but Kyungsoo shakes his head.

"You do," he says. "Why are you fighting it? You just have to _let_ yourself be happy."

And there it is again. Is it really just that simple? Joonmyun wonders. Kyungsoo is staring out of the window at the passerby on the sidewalk, and he takes a minute to drink in his profile. The thick black hair, his sharp nose, the plump of his lips. Memories of a life together that was definitely gone for good, but Joonmyun is okay with that.

"I'm seeing someone," Kyungsoo says suddenly, almost as an afterthought.

"Really?" Joonmyun is pleased to find that this news only makes him happy. Finally, a breakthrough. Validation. "That's good, that's—I'm really happy for you."

"Yeah," Kyungsoo is saying, and then he's looking down at his table. It's the first time in the entire conversation that his voice had finally tapered down to the gentle, pleased cadence that Joonmyun had become so very familiar with. Kyungsoo lifts his head, and smiles, soft and full of pride. "Yeah, me too."

 

 

 

 

Joonmyun sleeps on a plane for the first time during the thirteen hour flight back to Seoul. His slumber is healing, dreamless, and he wakes up feeling refreshed. The cold bites into his skin when they land, and Kibum saunters off into the next taxi without so much as a glance behind him. Joonmyun only breathes into his hands and rubs them together, looking up at the overcast sky.

 _It'll clear up by tomorrow_. Jongin's words ring through his head, and Joonmyun can only hope.

 

 

 

 

With the office property arrangements settled and all communication lines with Boa established, Jonghwan takes the entire team out to dinner to celebrate the night after Joonmyun comes back.

He's not sure why he hadn't expected Jongdae appearing behind his father when they finally arrive at the restaurant, but it only makes sense. Joonmyun presses his lips together when Jongdae takes a seat between Changmin and his father. He faces away at him throughout the whole dinner and does not turn to look at him even once.

Joonmyun had definitely expected that.

 ****  
  
  


 

Weeks pass. Jongdae enters his final quarter of high school. Joonmyun only knows this in passing from his father, and from some innate sense of the school seasons that never really quite left him.

He hears, also in passing, that Jongdae had snagged a solo performance in his upcoming choir recital. It’s gratifying to hear that Jongdae was finally pursuing something he enjoyed, but something tinges the satisfaction bittersweet, the fact that Joonmyun would no longer be a part of it.

On the day of Jongdae’s choir concert, Joonmyun puts in more overtime hours than he usually does, determined to not dwell on this fact.

It's late, Joonmyun realizes, sticking his head out of the office to peer around the now empty office. A shuffling sound catches his attention, and Joonmyun frowns. Who could possibly still be here at this hour?

Following the noises, Joonmyun eventually makes his way over the copy machine room. It's then that he stops dead in his tracks, unable to believe who's found, bent over over a copy machine, running stacks through the paper feed.

"Joonmyun-ssi," Jonghwan says, clearly surprised. "What are you doing here so late? Go home."

And, in that second, Joonmyun is so angry he can't even speak. Jonghwan looks more disheveled than usual, tie gone and top shirt buttons undone. He's probably been at it for hours, and Joonmyun has to physically restrain himself from shouting.

"Why are _you_ still here, sir?" he asks finally, trying to keep the rage out of his voice. "Don't you know what time it is?"

Jonghwan blinks for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. "You really have been here for too long, Joonmyun. Why don't you take the day off tomorrow?"

Joonmyun has to close his eyes for a moment to ground himself, or else he's going to end up saying something he'll regret later. Jonghwan seems just as confused as he is, furrowing his brows at him.

"Joonmyun-ssi, is something wrong?"

"The _concert_ ," Joonmyun bites out. His hands had curled into fists at his side and his arms shake, tremble.

"What conc—" And then it hits Jonghwan. It hits them both, as all the color drains out of Jonghwan's face. He had _forgotten_. Joonmyun has always respected his supervisor, but now he's fighting hard to keep himself from throwing a punch at him. Jonghwan forgot all about the vocal concert, about Jongdae's _solo_ , the one he'd worked so fucking hard for. Jonghwan had forgotten all of it.

"A-ah, yes." Jonghwan is fumbling with his shirt buttons. "What time does it start again?"

Joonmyun breathes in deep through his nose, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "In ten minutes."

A visible wince crosses Jonghwan's face, and his hands fall. "Well," he says quietly, turning back to the copier to pick up the paper stack. "I'll probably just stop by afterwards, then. We're very close to finishing. Jongdae will understand."

Joonmyun can hardly believe what he's hearing. "So you're not even going to _try_ to go?"

And once the words leave his mouth, Joonmyun knows he's done for. He's fucked up, he can tell by the way Jonghwan whips around, looking scandalized. But at this point, Joonmyun doesn't even care.

"You know," Joonmyun starts, glaring back at him. "Maybe if you'd been just one bit closer attention to your son, maybe you would have noticed that he's not really interested in business at all."

Jonghwan looks as if Joonmyun had reached out to slap him across the face. He opens his mouth, but Joonmyun cuts him off. He doesn't even bother to apologize for interrupting.

"Maybe you would have seen that Jongdae is lonely," he says, every syllable reverberating with betrayal and disgust. "That Jongdae really wanted his parents to be there tonight. If you'd been paying attention," Joonmyun finishes, finally giving in and snapping. "You would have seen how much this meant to him."

The last thing Joonmyun sees before turning on his heel and storming out of the copy room is Jonghwan's face, frozen in shock and disbelief. Blood pounds in Joonmyun's ears as he forgoes the elevator entirely, instead taking the stairs down two at his time. He is so, so, so _fired_ , but Joonmyun doesn't care. Just starts his car and takes off for Jongdae's high school at least fifteen miles over the speed limit.

Once he gets there, he parks and leaves his car right there in the traffic circle before sprinting towards the auditorium in the center of the campus, aglow with amber-colored lights. Joonmyun pushes through the doors, panting, and one of the ushers raises his eyebrows at him.

"You're late, buddy," the usher tells him blithely. "Concert's already twenty minutes in."

Joonmyun's heart sinks. "What about the solo performances? Have they gone yet? Has a male soloist performed yet?"

The ushers exchange looks with each other. "Don't think so. If you hurry in, you might make it."

Joonmyun nods his thanks before slipping in at the back of the auditorium. It's in the middle of a group number, but Joonmyun can stop Jongdae among the group of tenors, holding his music out in front of him.

Just like that, Joonmyun loses another piece of his heart. It must have been ending already, because the song cuts off and Jongdae breaks away from the group, looking slightly nervous. Joonmyun sees Jongdae briefly scan the crowd—probably looking for his parents, he realizes—before taking the mic.

It's all automatic after that. Joonmyun stands there in the back of the school auditorium watching Jongdae sing his heart out, and he sounds so beautiful, so breathtaking, singing for two people who weren't even there tonight and—Joonmyun clenches his fists again. It just wasn't fair.

It doesn't take long after that for the concert to close, and soon, Jongdae's entire vocal class is bowing on stage. He can see Jongdae's expression more clearly now as he searches the crowd again, how his face crumples, the crushing look of disappointment when he realizes that neither Jonghwan nor his mom are in the crowd. With a heavy heart, Joonmyun gets out of his seat and heads backstage.

Jongdae doesn't see him at first. He's standing in the wings, swiping furiously at his cheeks. Joonmyun calls out to him, then, and when Jongdae looks up, his heart breaks clean in two.

"Hyung," Jongdae mumbles, his eyes large and glossy, lashes and cheeks damp, and Joonmyun doesn't even have to say anything. He holds his arms out and Jongdae runs into him, all tears and disappointment, and Joonmyun _hurts_.

"Hyung," Jongdae is crying into his shirt. "Hyung, my dad—he didn't—"

Joonmyun pushes Jongdae back gently by his shoulders, smooths his bangs back away from his face. "Jongdae, you have to understand this. Your dad loves you very much, he's just—a busy person."

More tears sluice down the pink of Jongdae's cheeks, and his lower lip trembles as he nods. His arms go around Joonmyun's neck again, and Joonmyun holds him like that as he cries.

"You sounded so beautiful tonight," he tells him. If anything, it only makes Jongdae cry harder, and his arms tighten around his neck.

The sound of footsteps make both of them look up, and Joonmyun's blood turns to ice.

Jonghwan is standing there, clearly at a loss. Joonmyun gets the distinct feeling, as Jonghwan's eyes flick from where Jongdae is wound around his neck to the tears on his face, that this is probably Jonghwan's first time seeing Jongdae cry.

Jongdae lets go of his neck immediately, and Joonmyun has never felt more sorry for Jongdae in his entire life. Jongdae is looking at his father with a strange mixture of betrayal and apprehension, like he wanted so badly to be angry with him but was scared to do so. Joonmyun, for just a moment, wants Jongdae to be mad at his father.

Instead, he stands up straight to pull his phone from his pocket, walking over and placing it in Jonghwan's hand.

"Jongdae's solo," Joonmyun tells him, pressing play on the video he'd recorded earlier. And, as Jonghwan begins to watch with a maddeningly unreadable expression, Joonmyun takes a step back. This is a moment between Jongdae and his dad. He doesn't have a place here.

The video finishes, and when Jonghwan looks up again, there's sorrow and regret in his eyes.

"Jongdae," he says faintly, and then he's bending down, tugging his son into his arms.

"Dad," Joonmyun hears Jongdae sob. "Dad, Dad."

Jonghwan only hugs him harder, and Joonmyun backs up even more to give them space.

"I'm so sorry," Jonghwan is telling Jongdae, his hands on his shoulders, his aging face creased with so much sadness. "I'm so, so proud of you."

Joonmyun feels like he's witnessing something that perhaps he shouldn't be. If it weren't for the fact that Jonghwan still had his phone, Joonmyun would have probably taken this as his sign to leave.

As if on cue, Jonghwan finally breaks away from his son, Joonmyun’s phone in hand. “Thank you,” he says, giving it back to him. “We’ll talk on Monday.”

Joonmyun almost laughs then, because _fuck_ , he’s so fucked, but then Jongdae is walking over to him, looking small. For a second, he hesitates, but then he throws his arms around Joonmyun’s neck one final time.

“I love you,” he whispers into his ear.

Joonmyun wants to kiss him, wants to say it back with all the certainty in his being that he can muster. But—with Jonghwan feet away and watching him—Joonmyun does the next best thing. “I love you too,” Joonmyun whispers back at him, and feels when Jongdae’s fingers dig into his shoulders.

When Jongdae pulls back, neither of them say anything else, but there’s something in his eyes—like he gets it, like he _knows_ —and then Jonghwan is taking him by the arm. Jongdae swipes over his cheeks again, waving at him shyly, and Jonghwan gives him a nod.

Maybe this time, Joonmyun thinks, he deserves to get what he wants.

 ****  
  
  
  


 

“So.”

Joonmyun swallows, sitting with his hands in his lap. Across the desk, Jonghwan stares him down over the tops of his laced fingers. It’s almost hard to believe that he hadn’t even lasted a year. Everything had been going so well, and here he is, about to get fired for blowing up at his supervisor. The infuriating calmness in Jonghwan’s eyes is somehow even more intimidating than he remembered.

“How much longer will I be here for?” Joonmyun asks.

Jonghwan sighs, puts his hands down. “I’m thinking until June.”

Joonmyun stares. “That long?”

“Well, you do have commitments to me that you have to finish,” Jonghwan says evenly, and Joonmyun tenses up. “I can’t have you leaving before all the ends are tied.”

Joonmyun nods numbly. “Understood.”

“It really pains me to be letting you go like this, Joonmyun.” Jonghwan takes his glasses off to rub at his eyes. “It really does.”

“I’m sorry,” Joonmyun mumbles, his face burning with embarrassment.

Jonghwan shakes his head. “Well, at least I know they’ll be getting someone who knows what he’s doing.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, it was going to be Changmin,” Jonghwan continues, totally oblivious to Joonmyun’s mounting confusion. “But after what you did last Friday, I really have no choice now. It has to be you.”

Even as the realization starts to trickle in, Joonmyun still doesn’t quite understand. “You—you were going to fire Changmin?”

And then Jonghwan starts _laughing_. “I’m not firing you, Joonmyun.”

“You’re not?!”

Jonghwan shakes his head again, but this time he’s smiling. “I’m _promoting_ you.”

Joonmyun stands up in shock. “Promoting me?”

“Well, someone’s got to head the new branch, don’t they?” Jonghwan is grinning from ear to ear now, and Joonmyun can’t seem to process it. He’s not being fired. He’s being promoted. Joonmyun’s head is spinning so fast he can barely think.

“You want _me_ to head the Los Angeles branch,” Joonmyun says slowly, as if somehow drawing it out would make it easier to understand. It doesn’t work—he’s still as bewildered as ever.

“I want someone who I can trust to always do the right thing,” Jonghwan says patiently. “Someone like you.”

Joonmyun is about to protest, probably to say something about how he doesn’t think he’s worthy of such a huge position, but he closes his mouth, swallows his words.

“Also, I’d appreciate if someone I trust were in Los Angeles when Jongdae arrives.” Jonghwan sounds entirely too amused now.

Joonmyun blinks. “Arrives?”

Jonghwan flashes him a broad grin. “Didn’t I tell you? Jongdae was accepted at UCLA. For Vocal Music.”

“Oh,” Joonmyun says. “ _Oh_.”

“I’m so glad that you’ve caught on,” Jonghwan smirks. “Because you’re leaving in a month and a half, but we still have a lot to do.”

 _You’re leaving in a month and a half._ It hits him them, the full implication of Jonghwan’s words. Joonmyun is going to be packing up his entire life in a matter of weeks, and somehow—strangely, miraculously—he’s okay with it.

Jonghwan is watching him closely. “Think you’re up for it?”

Joonmyun swallows, takes a deep breath. He looks at Jonghwan in the eye and says, certain and confident, “Yes.”

 ****  
  
  
  
  


Joonmyun cuts a piece of tape with his teeth, smoothing it down over the box flaps. That’s the fifth box now, he thinks, looking around at all the other unpacked boxes in his living room.

He’s startled out of his packing reverie by a knock at the door. Already, Joonmyun has an idea of who it might be. When he opens the door, he finds that he’s not wrong.

“Hi Jongdae,” Joonmyun says, holding the door open wide. “It’s a little messy because I’m still packing, but come in.”

Jongdae chews down on his bottom lip, following Joonmyun into his living room. “When do you leave, hyung?”

“The day after tomorrow,” Joonmyun answers, still surprised by how easily the answer comes to him. “But I need to mail all of these out today and tomorrow. I can’t take them all onto the plane.”

Jongdae sinks down next to another box and picks up the tape. For a little while, he doesn’t say anything as he seals the box somewhat clumsily. “Are you happy that you’re moving?”

“Honestly?” Joonmyun sits down on the other side of the box, takes the tape out of his hands, holds them in his own. “I’m terrified. I don’t know what living there is like. I don’t know if I’m going to be good enough to hold my own at the new branch.”

Joonmyun sees the smile flicker on Jongdae’s face and sighs. “I don’t expect you to want to be with me again, Jongdae. What I did wasn’t right. I should have just listened to you.”

Jongdae is looking down at their linked hands. “I still want to be with you. Does this mean you do too?”

“I do,” Joonmyun tells him honestly. “I want to.”

“Really?” Jongdae whispers.

“Yes.” There’s a kind of thrill in admitting it. In saying that he wants to love Jongdae fully now, and not in secret. Joonmyun strokes his knuckles.

“I’m going to miss you,” Jongdae says, voice low.

“I’ll see you in August,” Joonmyun tries to reassure him. “You’d be surprised at how quickly two months pass by.”

Jongdae nods, still holding onto his hands. “You’ll wait for me?”

Joonmyun brings their fingers up to his lips to press a kiss against them. “I’ll be there when you land.”

Jongdae says nothing as he leans forward over the cardboard box of Joonmyun’s things to kiss him on the mouth.

And Joonmyun lets him, happily.

 ****  
  


 

 

 

 

 

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

 

Joonmyun pulls up alongside the curb, squinting through the throng of students milling out of a lecture hall. He spots Jongdae finally, stumbling down the steps in a dress shirt and slacks with his bag slung over his shoulder, and honks.

Jongdae looks up, startled, then his face breaks out into a grin as he races towards Joonmyun’s car.

“Where are we going, hyung?” he complains the moment he gets the door open. Jongdae plops down in the seat and tugs at his dress collar. “I’ve been hot in these all day.”

“I told you,” Joonmyun says lightly as they pull away. “You’ll see.”

And indeed, Jongdae does see when they finally reach their destination.

“Holy shit.” Jongdae rolls the window down to crane his head out, gawking at the theater marquee and the sizeable crowd waiting outside the building, all in various states of fancy attire. “A _film premiere_? Who do you know that’s an actor?”

Joonmyun smiles secretively. “An old friend.” They round the street corner.

“I think you’d like to meet him.”

 ****  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this, i would appreciate a comment either [here](http://the-exordium.livejournal.com/6477.html?mode=reply#add_comment) or [here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/exordiumchallenge2015/works/4310466#comments) :')  
>   
> thank you exordium 2015!!! it's been a wild ride *__*  
> ♡♡ lavren (whatthekey/sardothien)


End file.
